Instead of Going Under
by Mission to Marzipan
Summary: Nico was left with more than physical scars after the Giant War. After the fighting was over he vanished and fell into a lifestyle that's threatening to drown him. Two years on and with the chips down, Percy is the only one Nico knows he can count on.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again!**

**I'm starting to worry I might be obsessed with this PJO fanfiction business. I'm wondering if there's some sort of 12 Step Program I can go through... **

**Anyway, below is my latest venture. However, it owes a great deal to ****JJdracula who PMed me with the idea and asked me if I was interested in writing it. It was a fantastic idea that I just couldn't get out of my head after she asked and so here it is. The vast majority of the plot is JJdracula's and there are some chunks of prose and dialogue which are either hers outright or are adapted from things that she had already got written or had penned since we've been talking about it and sent me. So thank you, for handing this idea over to me and letting me run with it. I think I might enjoy this.**

**Marzipan.**

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><p><strong>Instead of Going Under<strong>

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><p>Dreams still bothered Percy. Well, that was if 'bothered' was the right word. Maybe he should choose something else, like <em>haunted,<em> because that's what they did. Hung around him, as well as every other demigod he guessed, and usually scared the crap out of him. Whether he wanted to admit it or not.

This dream was no different. It was dark, with shadowy tendrils leaping and darting around, bouncing off the walls of the room he was in and hindering his vision. Every now and then he heard a haunted voice (there was that word again; it was becoming a theme) whispering to him through the dark but it was too quiet to make out anything other than the tone. Sometimes he thought that it was asking him for help but it was all so _dark_ it was like it was sucking away at every one of his senses, not just his sight. The shadows swirling around him seemed to be hissing malevolently and drowning out the voice's cries. It was practically impossible to make out any words.

He stepped forwards, one had groping blindly in front of him, trying to get to the voice, but he was just stepping further and further into darkness and it was getting colder and colder with every step, the shadows growing darker, until finally—

He woke.

That was it. No dramatic ending to the dream, no scary conclusion, no horror movie-style reveal of something hiding in the tub behind the shower curtain. Neither did he go for that other overwrought cliché and jerk upright, sweating, with a gasp or a scream. He simply opened his eyes and immediately found his bedroom to be as cold and dark as the dream. His forehead creased into a frown as he pushed hair out of his eyes impatiently, focussing hard on the dark room. His eyes scanned the shadows and his hand was reaching subconsciously for Riptide before the thought was even fully formed. He slipped his hand under his pillow, where the pen was hidden, and as his hand closed around the cool plastic he felt himself begin to relax.

Riptide was his security blanket after all. All demigods had them, whether it was Clarisse's electric spear or Annabeth's knives. They each had their own little thing that made them feel safe and Percy doubted that he was the only demigod in history to go to sleep with their weapon of choice curled in their fist. You didn't face what he had faced and came out the other side a trusting human being. Something was always going to try and kill you and what better time to do it at night when you were sleeping? Stab or get stabbed, gut or get gutted. They should turn that into the demigod motto; maybe get it put on t-shirts and badges.

Probably not all that reassuring for new campers, though.

He couldn't see anything through the darkness; the streetlight that normally shone through his curtains seemed to stop short before entering the room, swallowed up by shadows. He uncapped the pen and watched it grow into the blade he knew so well. The golden glow from the metal did penetrate the darkness slightly, combatting the shadows in a way he wasn't sure something as mundane and as mortal as a light bulb ever could, and his attention was immediately drawn to the corner furthest away from his bed.

There was something there, something moving — a boiling mass of shadows was growing larger and he slowly and carefully inched himself out from under the tangle of bedclothes, backing towards the window. Now he was out from under the blankets the chill in the room was really pronounced; his skin prickled all over from head to toe as the cold puckered flesh into goosebumps.

His breath caught in his throat and he froze, one foot poised to climb onto the windowsill in case he needed to take the fight outside to the fire escape. He could not afford to get thrown through any more walls — he had had no idea how expensive drywall was to repair. How Sally had managed to pay for the monster-related damage to their apartment when he had still been living there was beyond him.

The cold had become more intense but it had also become more familiar to him; the chill reminded him of someone he hadn't seen or heard from in more than two years, someone he had almost started to believe was dead. Could it be…?

He barely noticed his breath misting in front of him thanks to the figure that stumbled out of the shadowy mass growing in the corner. The figure immediately dropped to all fours, a curtain of dark hair obscuring the face, and Percy's heart practically stopped. He didn't need to see the face to know that it was him; the method of arrival and the chill in the room had done enough.

The shadows in the room began to fade; Percy took the cue from the streetlight's illumination turning the tide and winning the battle with the darkness to flick on the lamp beside his bed. It was almost blinding after the suffocating darkness but Percy didn't care; it threw a pool of light towards the guy currently apparently set on hacking his lungs out onto his rug in the middle of the room and confirmed everything he had suspected.

It _was _him. The one who had lost his way after his imprisonment during the Giant War. The one that had gone AWOL more than two years ago with no explanation. The one that had turned sixteen just last week (the date was circled in black Sharpie on Percy's calendar even though there'd been no reason to remember or celebrate).

Nico. Percy's long-lost cousin.

Percy capped Riptide and stumbled forwards, perhaps even less gracefully than Nico had on his entrance, having finally gained control of his limbs. "Nico?!" he asked, barely daring to believe what he was seeing.

Stepping closer, though, he wished he hadn't. Shaggy, unkempt black hair, devoid of any of its previous lustre and cloyed with dirt and grease, parted enough to show Percy Nico's face. The light from the bedside lamp wasn't excessively bright but Nico's was not looking good. His cousin's face had become so pale it was almost translucent; he could see deep blue veins meandering their way through the flesh. The sallow skin was stretched tightly over the cheekbones and around his jaw. The sunken eyes were mired in the purple bruises under both of them. A rust-coloured scab bifurcated his upper lip but it was almost hidden by the torrent of blood meandering is way from both nostrils.

Nico was wearing a hoodie which was torn at the neck; it flapped open, revealing a jagged scar across his throat and a spindly collarbone protruding from his chest with a deep hollow behind it. Nico looked more like one of the skeletons he liked to summon rather than a human being.

"Percy," Nico croaked hoarsely, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and cuffing ineffectually at the nosebleed, looking up at his cousin. "Hey."

It took a little while for Percy to form words; his lower jaw was hanging open so far it felt like there were weights hanging off it and they weren't going to release soon enough to leave his mouth free for talking. "'Hey'?!" Percy demanded eventually, incredulousness pitching it a lot higher than he'd planned. "_Two years_ and everyone thinking you were dead and all I get is 'hey'?!"

Nico shrugged tiredly, shuffling on all fours over to Percy's desk and using it to pull himself to his feet. He wobbled dangerously but managed to stay vertical long enough to meet Percy's green stare (which had flared with irritation and annoyance to replace the relief) with his own impassive dark one. "The story runs a little long, sorry. But I'm here now." At that moment his knees failed him; they buckled from underneath him and he plunged to the carpet. Percy moved forward to catch him and managed to support him to the ground where he indulged in another hacking coughing fit.

Percy had easily put his whole hand around Nico's bicep when he had caught him with room to spare and the hand that was on his back could feel ribs through the thick material of the hoodie. Nico both looked and felt half-dead. What had happened to him that had resulted in this? The longer Percy rubbed Nico's back, trying to ease the coughing, the more he came to realise that Nico was burning up. There was heat rolling off his body in waves which was pretty much new territory where Nico was concerned.

As Nico coughed, Percy noted that the sleeve had ridden up on the arm that he had grabbed; the exposed forearm was just as pale as the face and even dirtier but it was also littered with burns and scars like detritus left behind on a battlefield. He frowned; every demigod had their scars and the stories to go with them but this was one hell of a lot for one guy. Some scars, still pink and healing, were overlaid on older, whiter ones and burns new and old glistened back at Percy in the dim light.

Percy got to his feet and slipped into the bathroom, coming back with a glass of water. He held it out to Nico who took it and gulped greedily, draining the glass before managing to sit back on his heels. Despite the coughing, Nico had taken the time Percy had been in the bathroom to yank the sleeve back down; there were self-cut holes in the sleeves for a thumb, Percy noted, to keep the sleeves permanently stretched down as far as they would go. It must have come loose when Percy grabbed him.

"If it helps, I don't know how I got here," Nico said eventually, shoving hair off his face and taking another lingering look at his cousin. "I'm sorry. I just… one minute I was… I don't know."

It had taken a while for Percy to notice because the room was dim and the brown of Nico's eyes was so close to the dark of the pupil — in fact, the irises were a whole lot darker than when Percy had last seen Nico, another change not for the better — but he saw it now. Nico's pupils were blown wide, looking like saucers as they stared back at Percy.

"It's fine," Percy said automatically, tearing himself away from the massive pupils that betrayed the fact that his cousin was clearly as high as fucking kite, or should be if his body wasn't so sick. "Are you… high?" Never one for subtly he blurted it out practically before he could stop himself, although it wasn't just a lack of tact that forced the words out. He was angry too, he realised, more than anything else. What the Hades was Nico playing at, what was he doing to himself?

Nico snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm sick, Perce. I took a little something to take the edge off. If that's a crime then there'd be a whole lot of doctors in jail right now for recommending it."

"What did you take?" Percy asked, his mind chugging away. Nico was messed up, sick and high. Was he high all the time? How long had he been sick? Did he need an ambulance? Was he even going to be able to give Nico the help he needed?

"Does it matter?" Nico asked tiredly, one shoulder shrugging. "A couple of things. This and that. I mean I'm pretty much a pharmacist by this point, Perce. I've tried the whole fucking rainbow of pills and then some."

"Gods, Nico, seriously? That's who you are now?" Percy said, distaste mixed with worry crossing his face.

"Bet you missed your messed up little cousin, huh?" Nico said, a trace of a smirk appearing as the shock on Percy's face registered. "I take it because it helps, okay? With… with everything."

Percy sighed. 'Everything' was such a broad term when it came to what Nico had been through. It could mean what had happened during his imprisonment, it could have been what happened with his father after the war was done, hell it could even been what had happened during all that time on the streets. All he knew was that Nico had been through enough for so many lifetimes already and he was still basically a child trapped with memories and experiences most adults never got to feel. Was it any wonder that something like this had happened? He had kept himself so aloof; without the support system of Camp or friends sharing experiences Percy thought that most demigod kids would end up like Nico. Sad, alone and, ultimately, pretty much broken.

"Of course I missed you, Nico. I went out of my mind when you left. Annabeth too. But this… this isn't what I was expecting when we found you."

Nico gave a hollow laugh, the effort starting another coughing fit. When he finally stopped coughing he spoke again. "Sorry to disappoint. This isn't exactly what I had in mind, either," he said, the bitterness coming over loud and clear. "Believe me. I've done things, seen things… But I can't do it anymore. I am so screwed up. I keep fucking up over and over again. All the time. I can't help it." Nico's shoulders slumped and he leant backwards against the wall, his eyes downcast. Eventually, his eyes closed and he sighed, trying to form the courage to whisper the thing that it had taken two years of living on the streets, taking drugs and more than a few near-death experiences for him to realise. "Maybe that's why I'm here. I think… I think I need help. I don't know where else to go. I don't have any else to go _to_."

The enormity of that took its time to sink in for Percy. Nico needed 'help' but his cousin had so much wrong with him right now that Percy didn't even know where to begin. What's more, this must be rock bottom for someone like Nico to admit that he needed help. His independent streak was a mile wide, perhaps even surpassing Annabeth's, so to get to this point Nico must have some seriously messed up stuff behind him.

"You need to eat," Percy said at last, choosing not to comment on anything else right now. "If you're sick you need to eat. There's soup in the freezer. I'll nuke it while you take a shower, okay?" Given that the fact that Nico's lungs were trying to turn themselves inside out every five minutes (well, that or make a break for it through his oesophagus) Percy guessed he should probably work on that first, the chest infection or whatever Nico had managed to catch.

The rest... would be more difficult but would come later. With time.

With a plan of action in place Percy felt lighter as his brain began to file away information for later, making the situation seem less overwhelming. What he couldn't deal with now was being passed into the deep recesses of his mind, not to be forgotten but just to be out of the way for now. Annabeth always seemed so envious of his ability to do that; she overthought, especially in battle, whereas Percy just knew instinctively not only to prioritise but what to prioritise. That said, Annabeth was one hell of an amazing strategist because of the way her brain worked but in the heat of a battle when split second decisions needed to be made he felt like he had her beat.

Not that he'd ever tell her that, of course. There'd be no sex for about a year.

For now Percy found his cousin surprisingly easy to lead to the bathroom after Nico had nodded absently, surrendering himself to Percy's care. Nico was disturbingly light to pick up off the floor and support to the next room; Percy felt as if a tiny bird were leaning on him, not a human being. The soup couldn't come quickly enough and then, after that, an Everest of cake and candy had to be next on the list. There were better nourished famine victims.

With Percy's help, Nico plonked himself down on the closed toilet lid, folding forwards and slumping across his own lap like a marionette with the strings cut. Nico had really quietened down and receded into himself; apparently travelling to Percy and attempting to explain the situation had really taken it out of him.

"Nico, you gotta sit up," Percy said, wrenching back the shower curtain and running the shower full blast. "Take a shower. You'll feel better."

Nico groaned and struggled to sit up, his pupils still huge and his expression glazed. "Don't wanna," he slurred, no energy remaining to form the words. "Don't. Want... want. Want to."

"You'll feel better," Percy repeated with a little more force behind the words this time. If ever it was time for tough love it was now. "Come on." He hauled Nico to his feet again; his cousin was unresponsive, floppy, and could barely stand on his own. Rolling his eyes Percy awkwardly propped Nico up on his own chest and used his now-free hands to tug at the hem of the hoodie, trying to roll it up and off.

That woke Nico up.

He reeled backwards violently, shoving Percy away, backing against the wall opposite the door shaking his head. "I got it," he said, his fists balled into his hoodie. "I don't need... I can do it. Shower. Got it."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Percy asked.

Nico gave that hollow laugh again, the emptiness behind it causing Percy to flinch. "Okay? Fuck no. But I'll live and, hey, apparently that's the main thing right? So I'm told."

Percy hesitated, unsure of what to do next or what to make of the outburst. He half-turned to leave the room and then changed his mind, turning again to look at his cousin. Nico was stood there, still leaning against the back wall, his arms hugging his lower abdomen.

"I'll live," Nico repeated, his turn to get repetitive now. "I'll shower now."

Percy nodded uncertainly, not sure what to make of the situation but deciding to leave it be. For now. "I'll go and nuke the soup," he said. "Borrow whatever clothes you need from my room when you're done, okay? What you're wearing is about to fall off you."

Nico nodded, taking a glance down at his own clothes as if he was seeing them for the first time. "Fine," he said. "I'll see you in a bit." He stared across the room at Percy, who was still hovering in the doorway.

His expression was carefully neutral but Percy got the hint and sighed as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. He leant back against it for a few seconds, contemplating. It felt like he was debating a hundred different things at once. Should he call Annabeth? She always knew what to do, sure, but would Nico thank him for it? Then there was the neon elephant in the room: was he even qualified for helping someone who was quite clearly on drugs get clean because, unless he was very much mistaken, his name was not and had never been Percy 'Betty Ford' Jackson.

The lock slid into place on the other side of the door; the sound made him jump, startling him out of his reverie. He pushed himself back to standing and made for the kitchen. He was on autopilot, still deep in thought, and navigated around furniture with ease in the dark, not thinking about turning the light on. The contents of the freezer stared back at him when he opened it and a staring contest began although Percy, with his stare blank and not fully comprehending, would probably have lost on a technicality. He gazed at the frozen food inside, hanging onto the door and feeling cold air waft out across the floor, chilling his bare feet.

So. Nico was some kind of pill-popping junkie who had hit rock bottom and had come to see Percy to get bailed out? Huh.

In so many, many ways he wished it had just been a monster visiting him during the night to kill him.

His lips thinned as he reached for the Tupperware with the soup in and slammed the door to the freezer, plunging the apartment back into darkness. He hit the lights irritably and started rooting through the pile of dirty dishes in the sink until he found a bowl that looked like it would just rinse clean without scrubbing or dish soap. It did and he turned the plastic container of soup upside down, banging it a few times on the counter to dislodge it and gaining a whole lot of satisfaction out of it.

Nico had a nerve, really, when you thought about it. _Whack_. The soup still didn't shift. What was with showing up after all of this time and expecting Percy to just toss him a life vest because he had finally realised that he was drowning? _Whack-whack. _Had he not realised that people would have been looking for him for all this time? _Whack. _Or did he just not care? _Whack-whack. WHACK. _The Tupperware cracked under the onslaught and Percy growled in frustration, although the plastic container did relinquish the frozen block of soup.

Percy swept the massive soup ice cube off the counter into the waiting bowl (Sally had been very adamant about not microwaving food in plastic containers and, even though a little bit of chemical contamination was pretty much at the bottom of the pyramid of things that were going to kill him he still always transferred food before heating it) and practically threw the soup into the microwave. A resounding crash rattled through the kitchen, followed by the door slamming. Percy punched the digits angrily.

Then he sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face and the bending forwards to rest his head on the counter. The microwave was sending small vibrations through the work surface and into his head and he let it wash over him as he calmed down. He couldn't be angry about what had happened. Nico had said it himself: there wasn't anyone else. Percy, and perhaps Annabeth as an extension of that, were the sum of all the family that Nico had, the only people who might even consider being there for him in a time of need.

And it wasn't Nico's fault, not really. Whatever had happened during his long period of captivity no one was completely, one hundred per cent sure about but the simple fact was that he just wasn't the same kid when he came out of it at the end. Add to that the loss of Hazel (she had been forced to return to the Underworld after the end of the Giant Wear to keep the balance), which had once again left him bereft of siblings and therefore anyone else who could even remotely understand what it was to be a child of Hades, then perhaps it was no surprise that Nico had gone off the deep end.

Apparently it had been a truly spectacular dive when he'd done it, too. The judges should have given him straight 10.0s all over what with the speed and distance he had fallen and the apparent theatrics on the way down, going from who Nico had been before to… _this. _

Whatever 'this' was.

As the timer ticked down on the microwave Percy again considered calling Annabeth. It was now pretty much his default reaction in any kind of crisis; she really _did _seem to know what to do in all situations. Then he realised that she was probably asleep and had classes in the morning; perhaps it would be better to break the news tomorrow about Nico's sudden return.

In the distance he heard the shower stop running and he glanced in the direction of the bedroom. He would deal with this because he owed it to Nico; hell, the at this point the _world _pretty much owed it to Nico. Nico needed someone to listen and work out his problems with him and Percy would do it. What other choice was there? Throw him back out onto the streets and spend the rest of his life imagining him as some John Doe in a morgue? No, absolutely not. Not gonna happen.

The door to the bathroom opened and closed and Percy heard the sound of the chest of drawers in his bedroom being pulled open. He glanced again at the soup; the block was melted now and on the way to being cooked. It was time for his game face.

Nico emerged from the bedroom at last, drying his hair with a towel. He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, both of which drowned him and made it look like he was about to be devoured by some kind of toothless, cotton monster. Whether he looked better or not for the shower Percy couldn't really tell; there was no more dirt on his face but at least it had served to give the flesh some colour. Without it, Nico's face achieved a feat that Percy would not have thought possible ten minutes ago in that it had paled even further.

"How are you feeling?" Percy asked.

"Like road kill," Nico said shortly, finishing with the towel and raking his fingers through his hair. "Clean road kill, though," he added as an afterthought. "Which is always a bonus. By the way, you call yourself a demigod? The strongest thing you have in your bathroom cabinet is Tylenol. You know who they give that to? Babies who are teething."

"You went looking through the bathroom cabinet?" Percy asked, a pronounced edge to his voice as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes," Nico said grouchily, not catching Percy's expression as he rolled back the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing. "And not a single oxycodone in sight. Hell, I'd have settled for some Vicodin but no. It was like a nun's bathroom cabinet."

"I thought you wanted help?" Percy asked, folding his arms. "Isn't that what you said to me about, oh, ten minutes ago? Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think raiding someone else's bathroom cabinet hoping to score some prescription pain meds is consistent with that."

Nico blinked and looked up from his rolling. He threw his hands up in the air defensively. "Fine. Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I was just making a joke, jeez. Lighten up." His expression humbled under Percy's glare and he sighed, looking down at his bare feet. His toes were scrunched underneath him. "I do want help," he said quietly. "I do."

Percy nodded, gesturing at the tiny kitchen table. Nico crossed the room and sat down, drumming his fingers nervously on the cheap plastic. His eyes, the pupils of which had now started to contract, were darting all around the room. Percy noted them lingering on the door and windows — the viable escape routes.

"Thinking of leaving?" Percy asked, leaning back against the counter.

Nico blinked again, surprised that Percy had noticed, and then his expression changed to sheepishness. "No. Well, not right now. The soup smells too good. I didn't even realise I was doing it really. It's just habit. Gotta know where the exits are in case you need to make a quick one, you know? You get used to planning on how you're going to run away."

The microwave beeped and Percy turned around, rescuing a clean-ish spoon from Mt. Dirty Dishes and giving it a quick wipe on his t-shirt for Nico to use to eat with. While his back was turned, he heard the chink of a metal lighter being flipped open, the click of it striking and then a long first drag on a cigarette. When he turned around, there was a packet of Camel Regulars on the table and one dangling from Nico's lips. Nico didn't notice Percy's glare because he was too busy playing moodily with the lighter, running his fingers through the flame.

"You smoke?" Percy asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

Nico looked up, startled. The lighter went out. "Yeah," he said offhandedly, taking another drag and then removing the cigarette from his mouth, using his free hand to offer Percy the packet. "Why, you want one? But FYI it's pretty bad when you're bumming smokes from an actual bum. Just sayin'."

"I don't smoke," Percy said firmly. "And neither should you."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Seriously, am I really going to get that speech? Blah blah, smoking kills, cigarettes are suicide sticks, blah. Yeah, I read the packets. Thanks. Besides, number one: I like smoking. Number two: of all the altars I've been worshipping at recently, and believe me there have been one hell of a lot, I think Lady Nicotine's altar is the least of both of our worries, don't you?"

"You're underage," Percy said. "And even if you weren't this is my apartment and you can't smoke in here. So put it out."

Nico glowered at him, took one last big drag and dropped the cigarette in a half-empty cup of coffee on the table next to him. The cigarette hissed and died in amongst the patches of mould which littered the surface of what was left in the mug. "Happy?" he asked, exhaling through his nose and cramming the cigarettes and the lighter into the front pocket of the borrowed hoodie.

"My apartment, my rules," Percy said stoically, taking the soup out of the microwave and crossing the kitchen to plonk it in front of Nico. "So yeah, actually. Pretty happy. Now eat. We really need to talk."

A shadow passed over Nico's face as he played with the spoon, staring down into the surface of the soup. "What about?" he asked quietly, almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

"Everything," Percy said. "Like what the hell happened to you. What we're going to do with you now."

"Like I said, it's a long story," Nico said, still talking to the soup. "I don't even know where to start."

Percy sighed in frustration, reaching over and jamming the spoon into his cousin's hand. "_Eat_," he said. "Start there."

Nico practically inhaled the soup. If Percy didn't know better he would have thought that his cousin had developed the power to speed up time while he was away. It seemed like one minute the bowl was full and the next it was almost empty, with Nico tilting the bowl to try and scrape the remnants out in hardly any time at all.

"Someone was hungry," Percy said, amused.

Nico shrugged. "I guess I was. I didn't realise. If you spend enough time not eating then your body stops reminding you that you're hungry. It was good soup."

"My mom made it," Percy said. "She told me to put it in the freezer in case I got sick."

"Well it worked. I feel better. She's one hell of a cook," Nico said, preparing to take the last spoonful.

"The ambrosia probably helped," Percy said evenly, watching as Nico's face clouded in anger.

Nico threw the spoon back into the bowl and scowled hard at Percy. "You spiked my soup with ambrosia?" he demanded, his jaw jutting angrily.

"You weren't going to take it willingly and you needed it," Percy said with a shrug. "Whether you like it or not."

"Well I don't like it," Nico bit out. "I don't need help from Camp or from the gods or any of it. Not anymore, not after what happened."

"Nico—"

"Screw you, Percy," Nico bit out.

"Would you please grow the fuck up?" Percy half-shouted. "You're sick, Nico. Really sick. You had a fever and you were coughing your lungs out. That kind of thing doesn't go away with soup on its own. You keep telling me you want help now start acting like you mean it. Start accepting it."

Nico looked mutinous, his jaw set. Despite the cold anger in his eyes Percy was reminded of when he had first met Nico, all those years ago, when Bianca had still been alive and telling him he needed to brush his teeth or go to bed. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at the image he had conjured up.

The laughter died pretty fast when Percy really stopped to hold up the picture he had of the old Nico, not just the child obsessed with Mythomagic but even the guy he had been before the Giant War, and this shell of a human being hunched over the folding card table in his kitchen.

It wasn't funny.

"Do you have health insurance?" Percy asked pointedly, trying a different tack.

Nico looked up at his cousin, all anger forgotten, his nose scrunched into an expression that demanded _how stupid _are_ you_? "What? Sure I do. All of the details are securely locked in my safe along with the other important documents in my life, like the birth certificate that says I should be _dead _by now. Of course I don't."

"Exactly," Percy said. "If you had gone without ambrosia then the only other way is taking you to a hospital where they're going to turn you into a human pincushion, run you through every machine they have, pump you full of a ton of antibiotics of whatever, and then when that's all over they're going to start asking questions like, 'Oh, what was your social security number again?' and then probably 'How the fuck does a ninety-year-old man look sixteen?' Next thing you know, it's time to chain you up in a government lab for a spot of vivisection. Your choice." He folded his arms, eyebrows raised, and stared Nico out until Nico dropped his eyes to the table top and sort of gave a tiny defeated shrug.

Percy rolled his eyes; the fact that Nico could never admit when he was wrong was yet to change, it seemed. Instead of antagonising his new houseguest more he moved to clear the bowl, taking it to the sink and playing a round of crockery Buckaroo with the dirty dishes already stacked there, which very nearly went horribly wrong when a plate made a break for it. He managed to catch it on his foot, however, although wished he'd just let the thing smash when pain shot through his toes, exacerbated by the cold radiating upwards from the scuffed linoleum beneath his soles.

Swearing loudly he slammed the plate down on the kitchen counter and turned 180 degrees while clutching his bruised foot and hopping. In the short time he had been distracted Nico had already nestled his head in the crook of his arm and was sprawled on the table, fast asleep.

Percy let out a breath it felt like he'd been holding for some time even though he hadn't. Nico was here to stay, it seemed, and Percy had invited all of his cousin's problems in as well to share the couch with him. What exactly had he let himself in for and, more importantly, did he have what it would take to turn Nico back into the guy he used to know?


	2. Chapter 2

**So… I've been a little delayed with this. I posted in February. That's baaaaad. My apologies, dear Reader, if there are any of you left after such a long time. I didn't realise that it had been so long. Hopefully chapters will be much more frequent from now on, though, as I have a lot more written.**

**Anyway, to remind you this is still rated M for language and adult issues. The chapter is very depressing and very angsty and it wore me out writing it… **

**The title for this came from a lyric in the Sum 41 song In Too Deep. Despite what the summary may lead you to believe you will find no slash herein. **

**Again, this still owes a great deal to JJdracula (she even pretty much handed me the title), who PMed me with the idea and asked me if I was interested in writing it. I couldn't get the idea out of my head and a lot of the major plot points are hers and (although not in this chapter) there will be points in the future where chunks of prose and dialogue which are either hers outright or are adapted from things that she had already got written or had penned since we've been talking about it and sent me.**

**So thank you for letting me play with this and thank you for putting up with long waits and my random emails going "WHAT SHALL I DO ABOUT THIS PROBLEM?!" which she is very patient about and often comes up with the perfect solutions. Also, thank you for the drawings of Nico as well. They inspire me greatly.**

**Marzipan**

* * *

><p>Nico woke slowly, as was his habit. He wasn't really much of a morning person and not even years of living in danger and in fear of his life from both the demigod world and the mortal world had changed that.<p>

A cacophony of pops and clicks sounded like gunfire as he stretched his body; years of battle had turned him into a creaking, groaning, thousand-year-old man. It was the same with all demigods. Although running for fun, pleasure or to 'keep fit' (words Nico hated) were all alien concepts to him there were still plenty of pe0ple did it and then wondered why their knees crumbled like chalk.

Nico and all demigods had to run for their lives, never mind _keeping fit_, on multiple occasions, usually in full battle armour (which was godsbedamned _heavy)_, and that was one of the many things that had taken their toll.

He rolled over sleepily, yawning, and found his face nuzzled against soft cushions. His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, almost toppling off the couch he'd been asleep on. He had also thrown the blanket that had been covering him onto the floor in his panic. With his heart thudding he took in his surroundings; it took a while to sink in but when it did he let himself breathe again.

Percy's apartment. He was in Percy's apartment, on Percy's couch, and he was _safe. _

Waking up somewhere as soft and comfortable as the couch had been a shock to him; waking up in comfort was relatively unusual for him these days, so much so that he automatically assumed that Something Bad had happened.

It hadn't, though. Well, unless you counted the fact that Percy had clearly manhandled his ass onto the couch at some point because he sure as hell didn't fall asleep here, that was. Then again, that was more a case of Something Embarrassing than Something Bad.

He had been so tired that he apparently hadn't even woken up or remembered it. Slowly, he rubbed a hand across his face, kneading his eye sockets with the heels of his hands to try and massage away the headache gathered behind his forehead. It didn't work (did it ever?) and so he stopped, blearily looking around the apartment. The sun was shining in the windows in front of him, making him squint.

It was a fairly large apartment all things considered. He had no idea that Percy had apparently done so well for himself. The kitchen took up most of the wall behind him (the rest was taken up by the main door to the apartment), with the counters placed in an L-shape along that wall and part of its perpendicular one to his left.

To his right were three doors, one of which was to Percy's bedroom. He remembered coming out of there last night. Currently, the apartment appeared to be totally deserted. Nico heard nothing but the hum of the fridge and no sign of Percy.

He continued to look around, folding his arms around himself as he did so. This was almost too weird. Too normal. It was way more than he deserved and it was starting to freak him out. Even his cousin's couch was too good for him and he suddenly heard the apartment loudly judging him. The silence that hung over the place was roaring at him and it was eerie and hell-bent on telling him that he didn't belong.

Swallowing hard he tried to breathe as best he could, looking round at the judgemental walls and trying to convince himself that it was better to stay than to run.

He wanted help. He did. He wanted help and he wanted to be here even though the whole apartment in its loud silence seemed to be out to get him. His leg was bouncing up and down, he realised, and he slapped a hand onto his knee, forcing it to stop. This was a familiar symptom of coming down and just one of the many reasons it sucked. Pausing, he licked his lips, wondering if getting help from Percy and going out and finding a little something to soften the blow of cold turkey were really two things that had to be kept mutually exclusive.

Just one hit. One last time…

It was starting to get to him before a key sounded in the lock and the door burst open. Nico whirled as Percy entered almost on cue, just in time to save him from going and doing something dumb. His cousin was carrying two paper bags and two huge cups of coffee in a cardboard carry tray.

"You're awake," Percy said, slamming the door behind him with his heel and walking in, dumping his wares and keys on the kitchen table.

Nico nodded tiredly, not entirely sure that that was a good thing. For the first time, he realised that the apartment was cooler than he would like, even with the sun pouring in through the window in front of him. He clenched his teeth to stop them rattling in his head. Another morning after the night before symptom he could really do without.

Looking down, he saw his arms were bare. He was dressed in one of Percy's borrowed t-shirts and sweat pants; the equally borrowed hoodie he'd been wearing the night before was strewn over the back of the couch. He tilted his head forwards, letting hair fall in front of his face so Percy couldn't see his reaction to seeing the familiar scars on his arms exposed for the world to see. Percy had clearly taken the hoodie off last night, after he'd fallen asleep, which meant that he'd seen them in all the glory available under electric light.

Yet in the sunlight they were worse still. The knotted white of old scars, defined from his equally white skin only by the faintest tinge of pink, formed a garish backdrop to the more recent scars. They were still in various stages of healing and in hues of red corresponding to said stage of healing, from vivid red to a rusty maroon.

The brightness of the day made his skin almost translucent, given it a grey and unhealthy pallor. Blue veins meandered lazily throughout the various wounds on his arms, the scars and burns, the way he imagined the Delaware wound impassively along as Washington crossed it to fight the British.

So sue him if he'd picked up a battle plan or two from Annabeth. It couldn't be helped_,_ godsbedamned. She knew, like, _all _of them and thought talking about them was _fun. _

The memory had flared in him like some kind of beacon but it quickly guttered and died. Although it had only been a few years it might as well have been a million for all the things that had changed since.

He stared at his arms guiltily, still able, after all this time, to pinpoint the first scar, remember vividly the first time he discovered that feeling the sting of a blade in flesh and seeing blood was a valid and valuable coping mechanism.

They weren't all self-inflicted, though; some were defensive wounds or battle scars. Many had come from his time with Gaea and were too serious to be healed entirely with nectar or ambrosia so he was stuck with them.

Yet whatever the cause of each individual scar, they were all written across his body indelibly, interwoven like some kind of Bayeux Tapestry of scar tissue telling the story of his life. He brushed his left arm with his fingers, feeling his throat constrict as shame burned deep within him. Then he grabbed the hoodie and shoved himself into it arms first, not feeling safe until he couldn't even see the tips of his fingers anymore thanks to the length of his arms.

He looked up as Percy walked over, a cup of coffee and, wrapped in a napkin, one of the largest doughnuts Nico had ever seen in his hands. They were both offered to him and he blinked, his brain fuzzy, before he worked out what to actually do with them.

Again, he was not good in the mornings, especially not when coming down. Well, that and he couldn't stop the familiar twinge of suspicion rising within him, which he had to admit caused most of the hesitation. He had a distinct lack of people in his life now that would do something nice for him like bring coffee and doughnuts just because rather than because they wanted something from him. That was soon overrode, however, because it was Percy and Percy wasn't like that, wasn't part of that chunk of his life.

He rolled the sleeves of the hoodie back (strictly to wrist level) and took the coffee gratefully and the doughnut even more so, murmuring, "Thanks."

"You look like hell," Percy said evenly, walking back to the kitchen table and taking up his own coffee. He jammed one doughnut between his elbow and his ribs, another in his mouth and took a third in his spare hand and walked back over to the couch, sitting on the coffee table opposite Nico after using his foot to clear a space amongst abandoned containers of Chinese food. A chopstick rolled onto the floor and under the couch out of sight.

Nico grunted noncommittally and popped the top off his takeaway bucket of coffee. It was black and looked thick like fresh-poured tar.

Just the way he liked it, then. Percy hadn't forgotten.

He took a sip of coffee, burnt his tongue for taking the trouble and found solace in the powdered sugar coating of the doughnut. He idly played with jelly pumping from the heart of the mortally injured doughnut; some had plopped onto his hand and he was making strings of it between his forefinger and thumb, all the while aware of Percy's green stare fixed on him.

"Nico—"

"Percy—"

They had started speaking at the same time and both of them sputtered to a halt. Nico shrugged and closed his mouth, more than willing to let Percy expend the effort. It was easier that way. He looked expectantly to Percy, waiting for him to continue, but it looked like he was having trouble finding the right words.

"Nico…" he said, breaking off and sighing, his forehead creasing.

"Ask," Nico said. Percy was hesitating and he wanted to get this over with. "It's not going to kill me."

He wasn't sure that that was strictly true; there were so many parts of his life that he didn't want to relive but Percy had to know anyway, one way or another.

Percy nodded. "Okay. Fine. What's going on with you?" he asked, and Nico was grateful he had taken the hint and gone for directness. "You turn up out of the blue after all this time away hacking your lungs out, half-dead, strung out on only the gods know what and… what? What do you expect? What do you _want_?"

Nico blinked, struck by the coldness in Percy's tone. The gratitude at the directness immediately waned. Not that he didn't deserve it and not that he hadn't heard worse it was just that he didn't expect it from _Percy _of all people.

"I want to get clean," Nico said simply, because that was all there really was to say. It was one hundred per cent the truth, anyway. The life he had was empty and meaningless; there was nothing beyond the next score. "Last night… it was a wakeup call. I knew I was pretty sick and I promised myself that if I survived the night, I was going to be through with it all but then… I was here. I don't even know how. I just _was_."

"You shadow travelled," Percy said. "It makes sense."

Nico took a big bite out of the doughnut so he didn't have to answer. Chewing on it was like rolling around wadded cardboard in his mouth, and it was tough to swallow. Percy didn't need to know _every_thing right now. There was only so much of his story that he had the energy to tell, anyway."

"What I don't understand," Percy continued, "is why you chose now. And why me? And how the hell did you even end up on drugs anyway?"

Nico sighed long and loud and shook his head. He looked down at the doughnut in his hand and squeezed it again, watching the last of the jelly ooze out of the middle. Even when he sucked the jelly from his hand and took a bite of the doughnut, just for thinking time, he couldn't actually taste it. He was sure the doughnut was good but right now… it was like sawdust.

Or ash, the ash of the bridges he'd so gleefully burned back then, back when he thought he wouldn't ever want or need to re-cross them.

His stomach churned and he laid the doughnut aside, taking another sip of the coffee and trying not to enjoy the way it seared at his already-burnt tongue. That was a fitting punishment, he thought, for suddenly turning into some poetic, philosophical douche.

"I don't know," Nico eventually said quietly, shrugging and feeling lost. "I don't know the answer to any of that except for the fact that I was sick, Percy. Really sick. And it suddenly occurred to me that I was going to die face down in the gutter. That shouldn't be the way I go. I've got to go out in a blaze of glory not a fit of coughing, because everyone expects me to fuck things up and I'm not going have proving them right as the last thing I ever do. And… I chose you because I knew you'd help. I didn't think you'd have given up on me yet, written me off. I'm sure everyone else has but not you. I knew you weren't like that."

Nico looked at Percy, sensing that his cousin was satisfied with the answers as well as being a little stunned by the rawness of Nico's honesty. Well there was no point in lying now, was there? No point in sugar-coating it. The story could come out bit by bit, but there was no reason to try and soften the blow: it was what it was.

"When did the drugs start?" Percy asked, repeating his earlier question.

"Pain pills," Nico muttered, studying his knees. "When we raided that pharmacy during the final battle with the Giants for supplies we took so much stuff. Bandages, gauze and tape to patch up the wounded. So many pills as well to get us back on their feet again and fighting fit, especially after we started to burn a little hot from the nectar and the ambrosia.

"I hurt all over, Percy. You'd only just rescued me from captivity after I tried to scope out the Doors of Death. That whole experience… wasn't exactly an easy ride for me. And then I got scraped up in the battle, we all did, and the Vicodin helped me in a way that nectar and ambrosia never could. It helped the pain and it made things better in a fuzzy kind of way. Things were brighter, but edges were blunted. It was _nice_, like I was floating in some kind of peaceful sea. I started to take more of them closer together and then when the battle was won and I ran out… I found someone that offered me something slightly different. And then something else and something else, a pill for every mood, and it just… _spiralled _from there, you know?"

"Is that why you left?" Percy asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Nico nodded miserably. "Partly. Have you ever had an out of body experience?" he asked. "I sort of had one of those, but not really. It was like… I suddenly saw myself from the outside one day. I was standing in the kitchen, chasing down these pills with a beer and I realised that I had royally fucked up." He looked up at Percy, his eye glistening. "I realised that somewhere, at some point, everything had gone wrong and I'd let everyone down and that I'd just… _fucked up. _And I hadn't noticed until that point but even when I finally realised it wasn't enough to make me spit the pills out in the sink and rinse them down the drain with the beer.

"Not even knowing that I was a screw up, an embarrassment to you and Camp Half-Blood and everyone else could get me to stop. So instead of stopping I disappeared. You can't be embarrassed of your messed up kid cousin if he vanishes, can you?"

"I never would have been embarrassed of you," Percy said fiercely. "I mean it, Nico."

Nico shot Percy a sad half-smile, shaking his head. Percy was a good guy. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to work that one out; it was obvious from pretty much the first moment you met him. Yet Nico knew that Percy was seriously overestimating himself in terms of how well he'd have dealt with the situation. It _would_ have been embarrassing for Percy because Percy sort of felt responsible for him, even if Percy couldn't admit it. Not only that but he hadn't actually _wanted _to be Percy's problem back then. He would much rather be self-destructive than take everyone else down with him. There was no point being selfish as you were falling apart, sucking everyone else into your own personal black hole when you could just jump in and plug it up and save your friends.

Now… it was different. He still didn't want to be Percy's problem but he was desperate, he had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. Before, he'd had the pills; now Percy was all he had left.

Percy stared at Nico sadly for a while. "What happened to you, Nico?" he asked at last. "When you were captured by Gaea?"

Nico looked up, his eyes haunted. He had shrunk back into the hoodie without even realising it and stared down into his coffee pensively. "It was pretty bad," he murmured. "They were in the middle of expanding the Metro in Rome and there were all of these half-finished tunnels under the city. Gaea had made herself at home in one of the more obscure side tunnels that no one seemed to go anywhere near. She… she liked to play." He laughed hollowly. "My powers were dampened somehow. I couldn't escape. When she wasn't forcing me to fight for my life against her monsters she…" His throat bobbed and he worked hard to swallow a sob. "She liked to keep me buried alive," he whispered, slotting the coffee between his knees so he could ball both hands into fists.

Percy's mouth opened and closed. "She… what?"

Nico was shaking his head again. He closed his eyes, felt a fingernail puncture the flesh of his palm and kept squeezing until he felt blood begin to run. His breath came in shuddering gasps, the way it did after he had the flashbacks, the same way it did after he had one of the nightmares that placed him back in that hole in the ground beneath Rome.

Those were the nights he woke up screaming, throwing the bedclothes off because they were too damn heavy, felt too much like a tonne of earth weighing him down, pinning him to the bed. Those were the nights he couldn't tell if his face was wet from tears or sweat or both, the nights he woke retching and sometimes puked his guts up. After that kind of dream it was only a double shot of gin and a couple of diazepam that would keep him from feeling like he was going mad and keep him from tearing off his own skin to try and purge the memories.

It was better to let the drugs and liquor work, let them help him drift away, than it was to face up to the reality of what had happened to him. It was seared onto his brain; he was never going to forget, never going to be able to let it go. All he could do instead to let the benzos do their work, let himself spend a little time amongst the clouds and hope he could face himself when he came back down.

He had to tell Percy. He had to get it out in the open if he ever wanted to get better and get this off his chest but it was so hard. It was like reliving it and he didn't want to go back there, not ever. So le left off for a little bit, ignoring Percy's question.

"She had me tortured in all the regular ways," he said with a shrug. "Never personally, of course, because she hadn't manifested properly yet but she was capable of having me chained me up. She had Greek curses burned into my skin. Cut me, beat me, the boring stuff. She had me fight monsters and… even other demigods sometimes. I guess she got some ideas from her darling son. Antaeus. Remember the Labyrinth? It hurt, Percy, it hurt like a thousand sons of bitches but I could deal with it. And nectar and ambrosia after you found me cleared up the worst of it. It was just… after a while I came to…"

He squeezed his eyes shut but not quick enough to prevent the escape of two tears, one from each eye.

"I came to _like _it," he continued quietly, his eyes still closed. If he didn't have to look at Percy then maybe it didn't have to be real. "Gods help me I did. Not like some weird kinky S&M shit but every time they wanted to hurt me… they had to dig me up first. I got to be out of that hole and breathing real air. No matter what they did to me I was so grateful that they pulled me out of that hole it almost didn't matter. I think I probably came up for air _thanking _them for releasing me."

"You were in a coffin," Percy said quietly, barely able to get the words out through clenched teeth such was his anger. "Buried alive."

Nico could see the anger written all over his cousin's face and demeanour and it pained him to make it worse but he had to. He had to get the full truth out there so he bit out a sardonic laugh.

"No," he said. "Her minions wrapped me in Stygian iron chains and threw me in a hole and piled the dirt on top of me. No coffin. Either Gaea did it with her earth powers or she let me keep a tiny part of my power over the earth with me but somehow the dirt sustained me. Fed me some kind of substitute for oxygen. I couldn't move, not even to expand my chest to try and breathe. I couldn't open my eyes or my mouth because if I did, dirt would rush in and I'd start to choke except there was nowhere for the dirt I'd just eaten to go, so…"

He stopped and shuddered.

"It was like being drowned," he continued. "But constantly. It never stopped. It always felt like there was a pillow over my face. No air came until they wanted to dig me up for our little play dates. And all the time the earth was whispering to me in Gaea's voice, laughing at me for being a son of Hades but not being able to help myself. She kept whispering to me over and over about how I thought I was so mighty being able to control the earth and the dead and how did I like a little first-hand experience of it? Of being in a grave?

"And she'd show me visions of what was going on, the battles raging, and tell me all about the way the world was going to fall. She'd show me visions of the future, too, with the gods in a chain gang in Tartarus and how when the war was won she'd make sure I lived forever so I could stay in that hole for all eternity. It was bad, Percy. I almost lost it."

"I had no idea," Percy said hoarsely. He placed his coffee down on the coffee table next to him. Even the giant bucket of a paper cup had managed to go cold with him barely having drunk any because Nico had been telling his story for that long and he'd been paying rapt attention. "You've been keeping this to yourself all this time? _Why_?"

Nico shrugged. "It was easier," he said simply, swiping tear tracks off his face as he did so and setting his jaw, steeling himself so he wouldn't start blubbing like a baby again. "If I said anything to anyone I'd have to relive it. And I wasn't ready for that. Hell, I don't even know if I'm ready for it _now…_ I was terrified, Percy. All the time just waiting for whatever magic to fail, for the earth to crush me, to fill my lungs. I was ready at any moment to suffocate and I just…"

"So the drugs…" Percy said, earning Nico's gratitude for being tactful with his intervention, his subject change. "They helped?"

Nico nodded. "They helped me drift away. I could pretend it hadn't happened, or that it had happened to some other person a very long time ago in the middle of a whole lot of fog. Either that or I could just turn up to a club somewhere and dance, dance all night if I wanted to, until the sun came up, and still be dancing when they kicked me out. Then it didn't matter that it had happened to me because all that mattered was the music and the dancing and…" He stopped. "See? I told you I was a screw up."

"Don't say that," Percy half spat, green eyes ablaze. "Nico, you are sixteen years old and you've been through more than most people would go through in ten times as long. You can't blame yourself for cracking under the strain of that."

"_You_ didn't crack," Nico pointed out. "You didn't crack and Annabeth didn't crack and no one else who survived the battle cracked. It was just me. Fucking things up as usual."

"No one else really survived the full brunt of Gaea like you did," Percy said. "No one. No one else was buried alive, Nico. You really think we'd be out here and functioning in the real world if we had? You would've had to travel into a padded cell to visit any of us."

Nico shrugged, not feeling entirely placated by that, although it helped a little. He had felt guilty for a long time, knowing he was the only one out of any of them that had lost it and gone off the rails. Everyone else had been so brave, so strong, and he _hadn't _been. Then the guilt at being the only screw up in amongst a bunch of heroes had made him feel worse, so he'd taken more drugs, and then after what happened with his father…

He shook his head, shoved his hands in the front pocket of Percy's hoodie and wrapped his hands around his Zippo lighter. He'd swiped it right out of the pocket of some Brooklyn hipster who probably only smoked _ironically_ or something and it was one of his favourite things, if only because it had a garish raised relief of a skull with diamantes for eyes on the side. His father had taken his skull ring. This was the only substitute he had.

He licked his lips, fiddling with the lighter in his pocket, flipping it open. There was no one he wouldn't walk straight over for the sake of nicotine right now, but Percy hadn't been exactly keen on him smoking last night.

"To have survived what you did, Nico, you're stronger than any of us," Percy continued fiercely, reaching out a hand towards Nico. "And come on, if you've been fending off monsters this entire time as well while out of it, then you are _strong, _you—"

Nico scrambled over the back of the couch away from the extended hand. He wasn't ready for the whole human contact thing just yet. Plus Percy was touching on a whole other truth now he was mentioning evading monsters. If only Percy knew how he'd done it…

"Bathroom," Nico stuttered, half running across the apartment. He slammed the bathroom door behind him, locked it, and turned on the fan. He chain-smoked his last two cigarettes greedily in next to no time, sucking them right down to the filter, blowing the smoke in the direction of the fan and tapping ash into the bath.

What the hell was he doing? What was he getting himself into? What was he getting _Percy _into, more importantly? He bit his lip, drumming his fingers faster and faster onto the side of the tub. Eventually, he pushed himself back to standing, rinsed the ash down the drain, wrapped the butts in toilet paper so they'd sink and flushed them away.

Percy had cut a little too close with asking about him fending off monsters while on drugs. The truth was, of course, that he _hadn't _but that was something he was even more ashamed of than getting buried alive by Gaea.

Gods, he was going to have to tell Percy all about that, too, wasn't he? He closed his eyes and unlocked the door, slipping back out into the apartment. Percy was at the sink doing the dishes and Nico felt yet another pang of guilt; if Percy was cleaning, things must be bad and the only thing that could have made things that bad was him.

"What was that, like five cigarettes?" Percy asked wryly, disapproval showing on his face.

Nico's lips twitched into something that might one day be a smile if it tried real hard and ate all its greens. "Two," he said. "It's all I had left." He took the packet out of the hoodie and turned it upside down for emphasis.

Percy nodded and lifted his hands out of the sink; Nico felt yet more guilt when he noticed that Percy was apparently so distracted that his hands had got wet. In fact, suds clung in a tidemark to the middle of Percy's forearm. It was yet another thing in a long line of stuff that was convincing him that he shouldn't be here, that he shouldn't be burdening Percy with this. And he hadn't even got to the part about his father yet, the part where he was disgraced.

"Percy—" Nico began, but stopped short with a surprised yelp, fumbling with the towel Percy had just chucked at his face.

"Yeah, you know what, you _can_ dry," Percy said. "Thanks for offering."

Nico blinked at the sudden change. It was only serving to stall the inevitable of course but by Olympus he was grateful. Percy was a lot smarter and a lot more intuitive, especially with people, than everyone gave him credit for. Nico _was _exhausted and he wasn't exactly sure he had it in him to keep telling his story and yet…

_Manual labour?_

"What am I, the help?" he asked crossly, wrinkling his nose at the dish towel. It would be a good distraction, yes, but it was still a chore.

"Call it rent for the night on the couch," Percy said, in a way that gave Nico no room to argue. "Anyway, one of these bowls is yours."

"Since when do you do the dishes anyway?" Nico muttered, shuffling slowly across to the sink and scowling at the pile of crockery Percy had already created. He had never actually dried anything up before but he got the general principal of it. "Last night the sink looked like you were trying to recreate the discovery of penicillin."

"Nico?" Percy said.

"What?"

"Shut up and dry up," Percy said, rolling his eyes and grinning as he shoved his hands back in the sink.

So Nico did, despite everything, because why not? What else was there to do right now?

The pile of dry crockery and cutlery grew on the counter next to the sink as he worked and slowly he realised, standing here with Percy drying his cousin's dishes, that this was the first time he had felt useful, _needed_, for a very long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone.**

**Apologies for the long delay but I guess you're probably used to it by now.**

**This is a sort of filler chapter. There was a gap that had to be bridged and, well, this bridged it. Next chapter contains some revelations and then we have some action coming up.**

**If there are any readers left who haven't died of old age in the aeons I leave between chapters I'm grateful to you for sticking it out. :)**

**Again, this still owes a great deal to JJdracula (she even pretty much handed me the title), who PMed me with the idea and asked me if I was interested in writing it. I couldn't get the idea out of my head and a lot of the major plot points are hers and (although not in this chapter) there will be points in the future where chunks of prose and dialogue which are either hers outright or are adapted from things that she had already got written or had penned since we've been talking about it and sent me.**

**I don't own PJO.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Just to make him feel even more selfish that he already did, Nico had almost asked Percy not to leave him.<p>

The words had been on the tip of his tongue for a couple of hours after Percy casually announced he had to run a few errands and it would have been so easy — _too _easy — to have just given in and said it rather than sitting there and nodding.

He knew he probably would have sounded like a frightened child but at the moment the truth was that Percy _was _the hallway light parents left on to placate children with a fear of the dark and get them to go to sleep so he guessed that came with the territory.

His cravings were worse now than when he had woken up that morning. Then, Percy had only been gone for a few minutes; then he had still had the traces of the drugs he had taken the night before left in his system. Now they were all gone and a primal hunger for more gripped at him. His nails were chewed down so far that the ends of his fingers and thumbs throbbed angrily at him.

Nico wanted desperately to go out and do something about it and if Percy had stayed then it would have been much easier to ignore those desires. He hadn't stayed, though, and without Percy the claustrophobia of being inside the apartment had redoubled. The place was back to demonising him, judging him, with all four walls glowering menacingly at him as if any minute they might start to slide inwards, Indiana Jones-style, and squash him flat.

A squished, 2D version of Nico would be a lot easier in the long run for Percy, after all, and it wasn't as if a protective apartment building was anywhere near the top of the list of strange demig0d occurrences.

Instead of waiting inside he had climbed out onto the fire escape, where there was at least enough air to make him feel like he could breathe. From the looks of his surroundings, Percy's building was in one of the ritziest locations of the Upper East Side, which left Nico was so many questions about how Percy could afford it, especially without visible roommates. However, given his current situation and all he had yet to divulge it wasn't like he could start asking questions.

Traffic passed beneath him as he watched, surging erratically and then grinding to a complete halt over and over again. The sidewalks were filled with people, too, milling masses completely unaware of the figure watching them from above and hating them for their blissful ignorance.

Nico could never just go and get coffee or go out for a shopping trip or whatever it was that these people were doing without panicking about the crowd pressing too close, like mounds of earth on top of him. Or a monster turning up and eviscerating him and everyone in the immediate vicinity.

He would never get to talk on a cell phone and discuss important, Wall Street business as he power walked along all time-is-money, briefcase swinging. He could never be normal, just another face in a crowd, ever again and that had been true since he was nine.

Jealously flared as he watched the mortals. They barely had any cares in the world, no godly parent who hated and shunned them, no berserk bronze statues undergoing seriously mechanical failure to come along and take their sisters from them.

They had it easy. He never would.

The metal railing he was leaning on was cool beneath his forearms. Now Percy had gone, he had rolled up his sleeves again. He tried to feel the coolness of the metal, the breeze on his face, the sun on his skin, and use it as a way of convincing himself that it was better to be here, to not run.

Real sensory perceptions, sharp and clear and crisp and, yes, even painful, had to be better than ones smeared by drugs like a chalk outline washed by the rain, right?

He sighed. Where would he run to anyway? Straight back into the arms of his old life. No, he had to stay and let Percy work his magic on him. The fever he'd come to Percy with had practically killed him, that much he knew. He couldn't go back to it if he wanted to live.

It wasn't like he hadn't been sick before because he had, both naturally and through drugs, but he had never been so close to dying before. Something deep within him that he had thought had been locked away for good had stirred and he had suddenly realised that he was feeling his own life force starting to gutter in the moments before it was snuffed out.

It was a feeling he knew of old, one he had felt hundreds of times before in others but never to the same degree in himself as he had felt it then. The thought filled him with cold dread and suddenly, somehow, he had been slipping through shadows for the first time in years as he dematerialised, ending up with Percy, who was clearly the only person his subconscious trusted enough to think could help.

He had no idea why his ability to shadow travel had kicked in then after the rift with his father had cut him off from the realm of the shadows but it had. He couldn't do it again; he had tried. But he had managed to do it when he had needed it most and he wondered if, just maybe, Hades cared a little more than he let on.

Yeah. Right.

Even if Hades didn't care, though, Percy _did. _The fact that he hadn't made a conscious decision to come to Percy was another thing that told him he should stay. Somehow, he had known that getting to Percy was the right thing to do. So even though he was standing there doubting it, there was obviously a part of him that knew he had found the right place.

It just needed to convince the rest of him.

He scowled contemptuously at the little piece of white plastic he was currently idly flipping through his fingers. Gods, how ridiculous. Apparently, Percy had been out earlier to get coffee, doughnuts and a _nicotine inhaler _for him.

He sneered at it angrily but then sighed, relented, and took a drag anyway because it was the closest thing to cigarettes he had. He automatically exhaled as if he had just drawn smoke down into his lungs rather than just nicotine-tainted air.

What did this look like, a son of Hades puffing away on a little piece of plastic? He was sure that his father would be pleased to know that, even after everything, the House of Hades could be reduced to an even greater low. A nicotine inhaler. Zeus Almighty.

Still, in some ways it was nice to know (he guessed) that Percy cared enough to want him to quit smoking and yet… really? Just… _really_?

He closed his eyes, still trying to fight the urge to leave the apartment. Cabin fever was starting to drive him mad but he knew in his heart that he'd be an idiot if he went down to the street, where temptation could seduce him without even trying.

Manhattan was huge and a little scary and Nico had no misconceptions. The city could and would swallow him whole without so much as pausing in its daily grind and he didn't know if he'd ever have the strength to surface again.

So he would wait here for Percy. With his nicotine inhaler. And give thanks to the gods that no one could see him puffing on it.

* * *

><p>Percy rode the elevator nervously, fingers twitching. It wouldn't do to show it to Nico but he really felt out of his depth with the whole situation. He had no idea what he was meant to do to fix this and so he had come to the place every hero came when they needed a little guidance: the Oracle of Delphi.<p>

The elevator dinged and Rachel rounded the corner of the penthouse and smiled at him. She had let her hair grow long and the loose ponytail it was bound in as an attempt to control it just about reached the small of her back.

Percy secretly wondered how many blue plastic hairbrushes had lost teeth in the fight against it.

She was dressed from head to toe in purple, a lavender t-shirt somehow managing to clash with violet skinny jeans despite coming from the same family. Her feet were bare.

"Percy!" she said sunnily by way of greeting, stepping back and allowing him off the elevator.

"Rachel, hey," Percy said. "I'm sorry, I would have called but—"

"I know," Rachel said, nodding sagely. "Things have been crazy."

Percy quirked an eyebrow at her. "Er, yeah, actually. It's, well, Nico. He's—"

"I know," Rachel said. "He's reappeared for the first time in years and isn't doing so well."

Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes at the Oracle's power butting in every time he tried to speak. "Yes. I need—"

"I know," Rachel repeated. "You need to know how to handle it."

By now, Percy was grinding his teeth. He wouldn't normally get so angry, especially not at Rachel, but he had been awake half the night with Nico and Rachel just seemed so damn oblivious to the irritation she was causing by not letting him speak.

That and the fact that she had somehow retained that sunny demeanour of hers when he felt anything but sunny. This was _important. _It could be that Nico's life depended on it.

"Yes," he said eventually, tightly, as he fought to keep his irritation in check. "And… there's something else. There's—"

"I kn—"

Percy cut her off abruptly with, "If you say 'I know' one more time, Rachel, I swear to the gods…" He let the threat hang idly, partly because Apollo did not take kindly to people threatening his Oracle but mostly because they were friends.

After all, Rachel couldn't always help being, well, _Rachel._

Rachel smirked at him and thought for a beat. "I am _aware_," she finally said carefully, the smirk widening as Percy narrowed his eyes. "There's something Nico is not telling you and you want to know what it is. And don't give me that look. I didn't break your rule. Coffee?"

"Duh," Percy muttered, placated by the offer of caffeine as he followed Rachel through her cavernous apartment.

Almost every non-loadbearing wall had been knocked down when she had moved in and all the spaces blended together. Living room met dining room met kitchen met office met artist's studio. Even the walls to the bedrooms were made of glass, the type you could turn opaque at the flick of a switch.

He settled down on a stool at the huge slab of pink marble that served as the kitchen island and watched Rachel pour coffee from a weird, old-fashioned metal pot on the stovetop. She plonked it down in front of him, spinning to add sugar and cream before he had even opened his mouth. Percy took a sip when she was done; it was so good that it was akin to rebirth.

"This is amazing, as always," he said. Small talk was better than asking the questions he wanted to ask, about Nico's past, so he continued, "What is it again?"

"Kopi luwak coffee," she said, pouring her own mug. "It's Indonesian. I persuaded my dad to save a ton of land that was a plantation this stuff grew on. He was going to buy it up to turn into something concrete and hideous and I got him to run it as a business instead. It's turned out to be really profitable."

"Well they grow damn good coffee in Indonesia," Percy said, taking another hearty sip.

Rachel nodded absently as she crossed back to the fridge to put the jug of cream back. "They do. Although the Asian palm civet plays a fairly important role, too."

Percy frowned. "What's that, a type of coffee tree?" he asked. "Or… bush or… vine, or… what does coffee grow on again?"

"Sort of stunted trees or big bushes," Rachel said, kicking the fridge door closed with her heel. "But the palm civet is a type of animal, a mostly tree-dwelling mammal. Kopi luwak coffee is made from cherries which have been partially digested by them."

Percy let his current mouthful of coffee dribble back into his cup. "What?" he said. "Like… partially digested as in eaten and thrown back up or…"

"The other end," Rachel said matter-of-factly, looping her fingers back through the handle of her mug as she walked past. "Workers harvest the partially-digested beans from the—"

"Got it," Percy said quickly, feeling queasy as he pushed the coffee away from him. "You've been serving us all steaming cups of African palm chivit shit."

Rachel frowned mildly at him. "Asian palm civet," she corrected. "And they do _wash _the beans, you know. You just said how much you liked it. It's the most expensive coffee in the world."

Percy shuddered, hating to think how many times he had enjoyed the coffee before now without thinking to ask about it. It was only because he was trying to avoid what he had actually come here to talk about that he had said anything about it.

He wished he hadn't. From now on, he was sticking to Folgers. It didn't taste as good but it hadn't been through some animals intestines, either, and it got the job done.

Rich people were _weird_.

No more procrastinating. Or beating around the bush. He hadn't liked how that had turned out very much.

"I need your help with Nico," he said, running a hand tiredly through his hair. "He's… so _lost_. He's been through so much and the way he looks at me is just like… I'm his _saviour _or something."

Rachel reached over and appropriated his coffee, tipping his abandoned mug into her own and then going back to leaning against the counter. "Weird," she said dryly, "how he regards someone who has saved the world more than once as a saviour."

"Those were accidents," Percy said flatly.

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "You saved the word accidentally?" she asked, wry amusement in her tone. "Really? Do tell."

Percy sighed and shook his head. "Okay, poor choice of word. It wasn't an _accident_ that I did what I did but it was… instinct. And destiny. And luck. And I had so much help and support, you know? It wasn't just me. It was _chance_, then, if you're going to get weird about me saying 'accident'.

"I could have easily been cut in half by Kronos's scythe or Gaea could have easily crushed me as she rose. I didn't have time to think about it. It was mostly heat of the moment stuff. I reacted, simple as. I never had to wonder _how _I was going to do it, not really. This… this is different. I don't know what to do. There's no gut feeling here tell me what's right."

Rachel nodded and chewed on her lip, apparently deep in thought. Eventually she said, "How much do you know? About his past, I mean. Did he tell you about what happened with Gaea, and—"

"You know about that?" Percy broke in with suddenly, surprised. He had assumed that it was something that Nico had never told anyone before. "Why didn't you say something?"

Rachel shook her head sadly. "I didn't know. Not until he resurfaced. Suddenly, all the gaps were filled in, what happened with Gaea, what happened afterwards… But if he hasn't told you, Percy, I don't know if I should. It's not my story to tell."

"I need to know what happened, Rachel," Percy said. "What if it's the only way to really help him?"

Rachel hesitated and then a slow smile began to spread across her face. "It's not my story to _tell_," she said. "I guess it's different if I _show _it to you."

She crossed the space between them and snagged his arm, dragging him away from the kitchen and towards one of the bedrooms. She flung the door open and the room was darkened by heavy shades pulled down over the big windows.

There was no furniture in the room except for a cube of translucent alabaster that was glowing faintly from within and carved with Ancient Greek words.

As always, Percy didn't even have to think to read it: 'Know thyself', 'Nothing in excess' and 'Make a pledge and mischief is nigh'. He had no idea what it meant but at least it wasn't in English so he hadn't had to stand there and struggle.

On top of the cube was a small, indoor fountain. Two silver dolphins reared up on their tails on either side of a globe pulsing with orange light like the sun. It was bright enough to light most of the room. Water bubbled out of a hole in the top of the golden globe and ran down the sides, splashing onto a round platform and then falling further into a bowl underneath it.

"Tacky, isn't it?" Rachel muttered, folding her arms and leaning against the doorjamb. "It doesn't go with _any_thing. That's why I had to pack all the furniture away. Plus it didn't seem very sacred when it was surrounded by all the bedroom stuff. So yeah."

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"The Kassotis Spring," Rachel said, staring at it contemplatively. "The Oracle at Delphi used to drink from it before prophesising. It's been… Apollo-fied since then."

"You don't take a drink every time you prophesise, though," Percy said. "Do you?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not to begin with. The power was still new and the visions came easily. But now… I drink a little every day." Her voice was low and a little dark. "It helps me See but sometimes what I See… it's a little too much. The waters amplify my power and help to draw it out. The Oracle was unseated from Delphi when the Christians came. Without the spring I find it hard to stay seated too, sometimes, so I drink but yeah. Amplification."

"It's that bad?" Percy asked, blinking.

Rachel shook her head and threw up her hands. "Gods no. No. What I can do is a gift, Percy. It is. It's just that sometimes I wonder if… I should have kept the receipt."

Percy's head hurt. He felt bad but the stuff that Rachel had brought up was just too much. Given that all of his available headspace was currently occupied with Nico… he didn't have time for the Rachel stuff right now. A pin would have to go in it to be dealt with another day. Why did so many people suddenly think he was a therapist?

"When it looks like you have your shit together as much as you do, Percy, people are going to come to you with their problems," Rachel said as if Percy had spoken out loud. "Ignore me. You're here for Nico."

Percy nodded gratefully. "Okay. So… what do I have to do?"

Rachel hesitated. "You drink," she said slowly, nervously twisting a ring on the middle finger of her left hand and catching her lip between her teeth.

"Why the long pause?" Percy asked her.

"The Oracle's power… it's a lot to handle," Rachel said. "I mean, you won't be getting the full dose but it's a lot for me to handle and I was born to it in a way. Clear-sighted mortal yada yada. You on the other hand… I'm hoping if you only use it once and for something specific…"

"I won't go nuts?" Percy finished for her, laughing humourlessly.

May Castellan and her burnt trays of cookies flitted across his mind and he imagined spending the rest of his life like that. Even though it was Hades' curse against transferring the Oracle's power that had caused May's madness she had still been a clear-sighted mortal. He was not.

"You're strong, Percy," Rachel said, picking up a gold chalice next to the fountain and filling it from the fountain's bowl. "And you are doing this not for your own gain but for someone else's. Your need is true and intentions matter. It should protect you and if you want to help Nico… it's really something you have to see." She handed him the goblet.

Percy exhaled and took it, draining it in a gulp. "Now what?"

Rachel retrieved a pillow hidden behind the cube the fountain rested on and threw it at Percy. "Now you sit," she said. "Before you fall."

Percy frowned but suddenly the fountain started to belch green mist, the orange glow of the sun-like orb clashing garishly with it. The room lurched sideways and began to spin and he was so grateful that Rachel had thrown up the pillow. He had just enough time to fall strategically backwards onto it on his butt, the pillow protecting his tailbone from the worst of the fall.

The world lit up a bright, acid green around him and the light burned inside his skull. The room was suddenly lit by light so bright it could have been high noon on Mercury.

Suddenly, he realised that walls were no longer a barrier for him; although he could see the walls he could also _not_ see them, like he had x-ray vision. The whole city beyond the walls of Rachel's apartment was now spread out before him, the people in it lit up with an individual aura like they had swallowed personalised road flares.

The green light didn't stop at the city limits. It kept spreading — the number of people he could see, or See now, he guessed, kept expanding faster than he could process it.

He felt himself racing across the whole of North America in a billion directions at once as more and more people and their lives became apparent to him; the light touched first the Atlantic and then the Pacific but didn't stop there.

In his mind's eye, the whole planet was suddenly ablaze with green fire.

Not only could he see what every person was doing right at that moment he could see what they had done in the past and the almost infinite ways their paths in life could branch out.

What had been, what was, and every single thing that could ever be was etching itself onto his brain and he felt like his head was cleaving in two, as if it would shatter like glass into a trillion flying shards.

There wasn't _room _for all of this; it _hurt. _

"Nico," Rachel's voice said, cutting through the pain. "Block everyone out but Nico. You can do it."

With a great wrench of effort he thought of Nico and the rest of the people he could feel winked out suddenly like a plug had been pulled. All that was left was the hunched image of Nico, stood on the fire escape of his apartment.

The pain subsided; the force flowing through him that felt like it was going to wrench him apart into mere atoms dimmed considerably but didn't recede.

He took a deep breath, staring at Nico, and allowed himself to See.


	4. Chapter 4

**/Sheepish look.**

**So yes. This has been a while coming, hasn't it? Whoops. Sorry…**

**It was hard to write. Gory and not particularly happy and so I guess I was subconsciously putting it off for as long as possible. However, after this point I have much more of it written and so updates should hopefully be faster.**

**Again, my sincerest thanks to JJdracula, who not only very kindly handed me her idea to play with but has also put up with the glacial pace at which I write. She's also an excellent artist and has sent me a couple of renditions of Nico that are always a pleasure to get.**

**Chapter 5… Hopefully by the end of September. Watch. This. Space.**

**But not too hard. Because I might be lying to you and if you stare at the screen for too long you'll probably burn the image onto your retinas permanently like a CRT screen without a screensaver. **

**If you don't remember CRT screens then that's fine, but I do and will now go and cry in a corner over the date on my birth certificate. **

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>When the green mist cleared, Nico was nowhere to be seen. Percy blinked in surprise — given that this was supposed to be a mental quest to discover what Nico was hiding from him, he'd expected to see his cousin. Yet there was nothing in the rocky chamber he was stood in except for a flaming torch in a bracket on the wall and the dirt at his feet.<p>

The entry to the chamber was barred by a heavy wooden door, made out of ancient oak and reinforced thoroughly with iron. Percy jumped when he heard a bolt on the other side scrape back, allowing the door to open.

All light from the corridor outside was blocked by the huge figure in the doorway and, even though he knew that this was only a memory, and not even _his_ memory, he suddenly longed for Riptide. In walked — no, _slithered _on his two serpent legs — the giant, fully armoured and carrying a spear and ducking double under the ceiling, even though it was at least ten feet high. Despite everything, Percy pressed himself back against the wall as the room suddenly felt incredibly tiny, the space devoured by the giant's presence.

The giant rested his spear against the wall and the spearhead went straight through Percy's head with the uncomfortable, almost-painful sensation of pins and needles. Percy crossed his eyes, able to see the shaft of the spear emerging from his nose, and sidestepped away from the weapon. Call him crazy but memory or not, real or not, he did not want to be impaled.

The giant walked over to the corner and the torch threw light through the gap in the front of the helmet, allowing Percy a good enough view to get an ID. It was Mimas, bane of Hephaestus. Percy frowned in confusion, wondering why he was visiting an empty, locked cell, but then the giant plunged his hands to his shoulders into a patch of earth in the corner of the room, biceps bulging as he pulled hard like he was weeding.

Suddenly, with a huge, desperate gasp for air, Nico's head appeared above the ground. Without further abandon he threw up bile mixed with chunks of dirt, all the time half-gasping, half-sobbing. Mimas watched this for a few minutes, clearly amused, before seizing Nico by his hair and yanking him out of the ground. Nico lolled limply as Mimas grabbed one of his ankles and started dragging him towards the door, pausing on the way out to collect his spear. Nico's head cracked against the doorframe as they want out and Percy could hear his cousin slithering and bumping, semi-conscious, down the corridor outside of the cell.

Percy could feel himself shaking with rage, could feel the sharp stabs of his nails digging into his palms. He snarled in the direction that Mimas has just gone, stepping forwards before remembering that there was nothing he could do. This had already happened to Nico and Nico had to live with it. He couldn't change Nico's past even though he wanted to pound Mimas into oblivion. Death by molten iron suddenly seemed too good for the giant.

The room swirled and began to dissolve into a haze and Percy suddenly felt his connection with Nico begin to stretch dangerously thin, like a rubber band at breaking point. He pulled himself together, swallowed his rage and ran after Mimas and Nico, feeling the taut tension gradually ease as he caught up with them.

He was just in time to see Nico being thrown — literally — into a clear space in the middle of an assembled ring of monsters of every creed. They jostled for elbow room, all trying desperately to see what was about to take place. Nico landed in the middle off all this with a thump, sprawled face down on the hard-packed dirt of the ring.

The crowed parted slightly, allowing a cage on wheels to be rolled through. Inside was a girl in a torn and dirty sundress with a mane of matted blonde hair. She looked no more than thirteen. Her face was streaked with tears and smeared with bruises but she managed to spit at the _d__racaena_ as it entered the ring to unlock the door of her cage.

"Come on, you scaly bitch!" she yelled, her voice surprisingly powerful in such a large cavern full of so many monsters.

The _d__racaena_ grabbed her by the throat until her yells were choked off and then dragged her from the cage. She wasn't wearing any shoes and the thin material of the sundress did little to shield her from the cold.

"Niiiiiiico," Mimas cajoled, his voice sickly sweet. "Wake up. We have another play date for you." This received no response from the son of Hades and so Mimas dumped a skin of water all over Nico, who sputtered and groaned.

"Fuck... you," Nico wheezed. "Fuck all of you." He rolled over onto his back, keeping his right arm tucked protectively to his naked and filthy chest. Nico's fingers were limp and lifeless and his hand a little crooked. There was an ominous bulge on one side of his wrist that looked like the broken end of the radius pushing out against the flesh, threatening at any minute to become a compound break. His face was a mass of bruises and blood; one of his eyes was swollen almost shut and he had to speak carefully around split and swollen lips. His torso was littered with bruises and the skin of his left pectoral was torn open by the lash of a whip as it had come across his back and over his shoulder. The torn skin extended past the bottom of his ribcage at the back.

His feet were a bloody mess and even under all the dirt and congealed blood Percy could see that Nico no longer possessed toenails; the swelling from broken toes made his feet look more like comedy slippers than the real thing.

Laughter rang around the cavern at Nico's words and Percy screamed in anger, lashing out with a vicious axe kick at the nearest monster. His foot went right through, doing more damage to him in prickling numbness than the monster, and made him feel no better.

"Don't be like that, Nico," Mimas said. "We found you a friend."

Nico looked up at the girl, who had her arms folded around her torso and her eyes closed tightly. Her lips were moving wordlessly in prayer. Nico snarled at Mimas and gingerly got to his feet, shuffling over to the girl and touching her arm. She shrieked at the contact and tried to pull away but Nico held on firmly.

"Listen to me," he said quietly, looking her in the eyes. "Look at me and listen. What's your name?"

"Julia," she murmured quietly, once again sounding on the verge of tears. "Daughter of Nyx. Who are you?"

"Nico," said Nico.

"_The _Nico?" Julia asked. "The one everyone is looking for?"

Nico nodded, looking relieved to hear that people were still looking for him. "Yup. That's me. Look, we don't have much time, okay? You need to tell me what's going on up there. How many people are looking for me? Are they going to find us? How close are they? Are we... _winning_?"

Julia took a deep breath. "We're not losing," she said. "But we're not winning either. Things are pretty bad. They're kidnapping demigods like me. Anyone they can get their hands on. People are disappearing and no one knows if it's by choice or whether someone has taken them. Or if they're dead. So many are dead... They keep looking for you. They seem to think it's the key to winning. They're trying but it's so hard and—"

Two long daggers, practically short swords, were thrown at Julia's feet. She looked up, immediately snatching up one of the weapons and crouching, catlike, waiting with the knife poised in mid-air.

"Ladies first. Very polite of you, Nico," Mimas said. "Now stop being a gentleman and pick up the dagger."

Nico bared his teeth. "What part of fuck you did you misunderstand?" he bit out. "I'm not doing this again, Mimas. I am _done_."

"You say that every time," Mimas said. "And yet here we are." He stepped into the middle of the ring, towering over Nico and Julia with his twenty feet in height, and raised his arms to the cavern's ceiling to address the assembled crowd. "I present to you once more, for your entertainment, this snivelling son of Hades, the pathetic Olympian, and this daughter of Nyx, a deity even less worthy of mention. They will now fight to the death for your pleasure."

The crowd went wild; Percy's heart froze in his chest. To the _death?_

"Wh-what?" Julia stammered, her face draining of colour. "You want me to kill him?"

"Many have tried," Mimas said. "It's not as easy as it looks."

Nico bowed his head to the floor, not meeting Julia's eyes.

"He's so modest!" Mimas barked out, laughing. "But he never loses."

Percy saw a single tear fall from Nico's cheek and explode on the dirt beneath him. Julia was swallowing convulsively, eyes wide as she regarded Nico's shamed form.

"Nico?" Julia asked, her voice tinged with hope amongst the fear.

Nico said nothing and picked up the dagger on the floor. Percy was suddenly assaulted with the memories of all the things that had been done to Nico's opponents if he refused to compete. Drowning in a boiling cauldron. Amputations beginning with digits and ending with limbs. Boiling pitch searing through skin. Lost eyes. Extracted teeth. He gagged along with the demigod he was seeing having a molar removed, although the demigod he was seeing was gagging because he was half-drowning in his own blood.

And he saw Nico's hope too, the hope that maybe, just maybe, if he fought his opponent and they killed him they'd get to live and be spared the torture. He had never been brought anyone that could kill him, though, and if he tried to lose then the result for his opponent was the same. Tortured. To death.

Percy could practically smell the smoke coiling from charred flesh as demigods were branded in front of Nico as they were punished because Nico had refused to kill them. The crack of breaking bones echoed in Percy's mind as fingers of demigods were twisted into unimaginable shapes when Nico refused to fight his best and tried to let them win, the sharp snapping providing a background for screams of pain and cries of mercy.

"You know what to do, Nico," Mimas said pleasantly, chuckling and settling down ringside on an enormous wrought iron throne.

Percy's stomach churned. He suddenly realised that Nico was killing his opponents only because their lives were literally not worth living when they lost. The only thing he could do was try to make it as quick and painless as possible, murmur a prayer to his father over their bodies to get them to Elysium.

Nico never wanted to do it but despite what he said to Mimas Nico clearly knew that he _had_ to. A quick, clean, pain-free death was the opposite of what the assembled crowd did to the losing demigod over the course of over a week, sometimes, before their body gave in.

Their mind had usually gone long before.

And Nico had seen it all. Waves of memories of the days upon days of torture inflicted in demigods while Nico watched washed over Percy and his legs weakened under him. He sat down hard on the floor, never having realised before now just how much blood there _was _in a human body, realising that he now knew the volume of scream required to irreparably damage someone's larynx and stop them making any further noises.

Nico was given no choice — either he killed them or they suffered horribly, felt pain like they never had before until their minds warped and their bodies gave in.

"You're going to a better place," Nico whispered to Julia. "I promise. In Elysium you can try for rebirth."

"I don't want to be _reborn_," Julia said, her voice cracking on the last syllable. "I want to live the life that I've got. This one. I don't want to die. Please, Nico. I don't want to die. We can fight, we can escape..."

"You have no idea what they'll do to you if I try," Nico said, his eyes shining with tears and his own voice breaking over the words. "Julia... the things I have seen them do to demigods just like you... death is the better option. Peace. Rebirth far away from this."

Julia snarled. "Fuck you," she bit out. "Don't tell me that death is better than being alive. Why are they even looking for you? You're _insane._"

She shrieked and raised the knife high above her head, charging at Nico. Nico, with his knife held awkwardly in his left hand and his right still clutched protectively to his chest, looked too vulnerable and Percy reached out instinctively even though he knew he couldn't stop her.

Nico, however, was more than ready. He dived to his left at the last second and caught Julia's ankle with both of his feet, twisting and sending her sprawling to the floor. She hit so hard she bounced and it looked as if the fall had dazed her.

The crowd cheered as she fell and Nico cautiously got to his feet, still holding his knife, and crept towards Julia. She got up at the last possible second, clearly surprising Nico, and slashed at him. Percy actually heard the blade grate against Nico's left iliac crest and the serrations apparently became lodged in the bone. When Nico jumped backwards with a yell of pain the knife was ripped from Julia's grasp and remained stuck at his hip for a few moments before gravity overtook it and it fell to the floor. Blood gleamed slickly on the steel as Nico kicked it backwards and out of sight.

Nico put his own knife between his teeth so he could use his good hand to press the wound. It didn't look too deep; Nico was so thin that his hipbones were permanently visible and Julia had apparently struck where the bone came closest to the surface, but to have cut to the bone all the same...

Grimacing, Nico returned his knife to his hand. He stared down at Julia, who had tears quivering, threatening to spill, in her eyes.

"Please," she said, her voice strangled with tears. "Please don't hurt me."

Nico swallowed hard. His throat was bobbing as he fought to contain the emotion in his own voice. "I have to," he said quietly, barely keeping back a sob. "Julia, you don't know what they do to the ones I don't kill. If you had any idea what they'd do to you if I left you alive… It's worse than being dead. Everyone ends up screaming for death before things have even properly begun. By the time things are only halfway through they usually can't speak anymore. Please, Julia. Don't be scared. You're going to a much better place. Just accept it."

"I'm _thirteen,_" Julia said, her voice high and wavering with fear. "It's not _time _for me to go to a better place."

"Everyone has their time," Nico said. "If you're thirteen or a hundred and thirteen when it's time… it's time. I promise, Elysium will be the biggest reward. It will make this seem worth it."

The crowd gradually broke out into a chorus of booing. "KILL! KILL!" was chanted over and over, echoing around the cavern they were in.

Nico dropped to his knees in front of Julia and gently touched her shoulder with his bad arm. She shook her head and tried to shrug him off but he wouldn't let her despite the pain it was obviously causing him. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear; the fight immediately went out of her and she began crying silently, huge tears rolling down her face. Nico took his bad hand and clumsily wiped the tears away with a barely functioning thumb before tilting her head up to face him. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and closed his eyes, murmuring a swift prayer, and then drove his knife under her Julia's chin, burying it to the hilt.

She immediately sagged forwards and he caught her as she fell, gently laying her down on her back. The wound gurgled once and then all was quiet and she was gone. Nico could barely look at her. He pulled the knife out and tossed it away from him before closing her eyes.

Then he got to his feet shakily and turned to face Mimas. "One day — and believe me, it will be soon — you are going to pay for this," he said fiercely, hate oozing malignantly from his words. "You are all going to pay for this even if I have to do it myself, so help me…"

Mimas blinked, apparently slightly perturbed by Nico's expression and the venom in his voice. Then he barked out a loud laugh, prompting the rest of the cavern to join in.

"Oh little godling," Mimas said, pretending to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. "You are so _funny_. I wonder how you'll feel after we have another little one of our _chats_?"

Nico paled visibly, going from grey to white in a heartbeat. Blue veins, rust-red scabs and a kaleidoscope of bruises suddenly stood out lividly against his skin.

"Leave us!" Mimas bellowed to the assembled monsters. The cavern cleared quicker than Percy would ever have thought possible and a silence fell that was eerie when compared to what it had been before.

"I already told you how to keep the Doors of Death propped open without any effort on your part," Nico said hollowly, looking down ashamedly. "What more do you want? I betrayed by father and Olympus because you told me that was it. You told me you wouldn't kill any more people. That you'd stop if I told you."

"But your cries were musical!" Mimas said jovially. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Just kill me," Nico said, weariness infusing every word.

Mimas smiled. "Of course! But not just yet. Why would I send you to your father prematurely? You could be of so much more use to me." He got up from the throne and made it to Nico in less than two steps. The giant bent down, grabbing Nico by the throat and lifting him clean off his feet to Mimas's eye level.

Nico choked, kicking wildly, his face rapidly purpling in the giant's grasp.

Mimas grinned. "You're so young!" he said, shaking Nico like a rag doll. "I feel that your weak mortal hyoid bone isn't even fused yet!"

Nico made a few strangled gasps and went limp. Mimas rolled his eyes and threw Nico across the cavern into the opposite wall, which the demigod hit with an ominous thud and crunch. Nico landed on the floor face down and lay there unmoving.

Again Mimas walked over to Nico, flipping him over onto his back with one massive serpent foot. "Now, demigod. My brother Alcyoneus, your father's bane, may have been destroyed in that wretched frozen wasteland known as Canada but I am still here. So you're going to have to help me instead."

"I already helped you," Nico bit out. As soon as he opened his mouth, a long string of blood and spit drooled out of the corner. "I told you that Sisyphus's plan to keep Thanatos chained wouldn't work and it didn't. Again. I told you that he'd be freed eventually and try to take back the Doors. You didn't want to hear it but I was right."

"Yes, unfortunately you were," Mimas said dangerously. "Fortunately, however, you told us how to keep the Doors open without Gaea having to exert most of her power to do so. For that, we thank you."

Nico looked like he was about to be sick. "You had my toenails pulled out," he said. "And then you made me a deal, you told me you wouldn't hurt any more people. You said that unless I told you… Percy and Annabeth and Hazel were next."

Mimas laughed. "And did I not hold up my end of the bargain? Do you see those precious demigods of yours here?"

"You cannot ask anything else," Nico said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Of course I can, demigod," Mimas said. "You are a weak, pathetic mortal. I am Mimas of the Giants. You are nothing. You are only worth keeping alive because of the information you hold on your father. So, tell me, son of Hades… What do I need to get full access to the Underworld?"

"The Doors of Death aren't enough access for you?" Nico asked. "What more do you want? You've already made it so that whoever you want to walk out can."

"I want access to the deepest, darkest pits of Tartarus," Mimas said. "I want whatever energy and essences stored down there that have been lost for so many millennia even your father has forgotten that they are there. And then, once I have them on my side… I want the souls. Do you know how much power is in a human soul, boy? Mortals have been dying for aeons and they are all in your father's realm. The Fields of Asphodel alone are rife with the raw collected power of billions of souls. Do not think that we are the Titans, boy. We are what came after. We were designed to do what the Titans failed to do and, unlike the Titans, we learn from our mistakes so we are not doomed to repeat them. Last time, we were not strong enough to topple those miserable beings you call gods. This time, we know what is needed. And what we need is that well of power your father sits on and doesn't even make _use _of. So tell us, mortal. How do we tap into that?"

"It can't be done," Nico said. "Something like that is against the laws of nature. It shouldn't be tempted. You could tear the planet apart just by even _trying _it."

Mimas smiled. "So there _is_ a way to try?"

Nico froze, a deer caught in the headlights. "No," he managed eventually. "No, that's not what I meant."

Mimas laughed and picked up Julia's fallen knife, closing in on Nico. The demigod scurried backwards awkwardly, pressing himself against the wall of the cavern. His good hand was balled into a fist and his face had a sneer of contempt on it but Percy could tell just by looking that Nico's heart wasn't in it. He barely had the energy to stand let alone continue defying Mimas for so long. He looked exhausted, broken.

Mimas grabbed Nico's face with one massive hand, slamming Nico's head back against the cavern wall and pinning him there. Nico flailed, desperately trying to pull at Mimas's massive arm. Clearly, he couldn't breathe. Mimas looked amused and then took the knife and traced the tip from Nico's temple down his face and along his jawbone. Nico's struggling renewed at this sudden pain; Percy could hear the wickedly sharp tip slicing through the flesh, so deep that it took a while for the blood to appear. The point of the dagger continued its journey, scoring down Nico's neck and along his collarbone towards his shoulder, leaving glimpses of stark white clavicle in the midst of the blood as it went.

Nico was screaming now into Mimas's hand but the fighting was getting less and less as his oxygen ran out. Mimas had drawn the blade to Nico's shoulder before he let him breathe; Nico took deep, gulping gasps of air, his face a shiny mess of tears or sweat or both.

Then Mimas plunged the dagger into Nico's shoulder with a sickening crunch.

Nico's screams filled the cavern and Percy had to close his eyes and look away. Nico had had to endure torture like this for _weeks. _He was surprised that his cousin had managed to stay sane after it all, although he guessed that torturing Nico into insanity wasn't the best option for Mimas. Not until he had all the information he needed anyway.

"I am going to do that to every single ridiculous mortal you have even _spoken _to," Mimas roared. "Starting with the ones you are so desperate to shield and then moving on to anyone else. Perhaps I should take some lessons from the Romans and have them crucified… Would you like to see that? Your so-called friends, who aren't even looking that hard for you, clearly, strung up to die like that?"

Nico was crying. "Please don't hurt them," he said thickly, staring at the dagger protruding from his shoulder. "You promised."

"Then tell me, demigod," Mimas said, leaning in close and twisting the knife, drawing more agonised screams from Nico, "what it is that I need to know."

The cavern dissolved into green mist; even as Nico was obscured from view, Percy could still hear his cries echoing around in his head. His fists were balled tightly but impotently and his heart was pounding with rage.

The things Nico had been through, the things he'd been forced to reveal… it had all been to protect Percy and Annabeth and Hazel and any other demigod or mortal from coming to harm at the hands of Mimas. All the times Nico had brushed the whole ordeal off, told them he was fine (before he fell off the radar, that is) his lies had obviously been so blatant. Even though Percy had known that his cousin had come back monumentally screwed up in the head and that he wasn't _fine_, no matter how many times Nico insisted it, Percy had never known quite how bad it was. His chest ached just thinking about it.

The mist began to clear again and gradually Percy became aware that he was standing in Hades's throne room. Nico was knelt in front of his father. Although scratches and scrapes and bruises marred his body, Percy recognised these from the successful battle with the Giants and not from the torture. The Apollo cabin and a vat of nectar had erased as much of the physical traces of Nico's torture as was possible. In fact, the war wounds Nico was sporting looked tame in comparison to the bloodied, battered state his cousin had been in when they found him. Percy hadn't even been sure that it was Nico at first, so thick was the blood and the dirt, so dark were the bruises.

"Do you know what my family thinks of me?" Hades was saying, his voice hard and cold. Cruel. "They think that I am unfit to manage my realm. I have been humiliated in their eyes by your actions, Nico. First you trample all over everything I have taught you, everything you and I stand for, by practically _handing _them the keys to the Doors of Death. You let the worst enemies of the gods just stroll back out into the sunlight, making a mockery of the Underworld. And then you reveal a way of harnessing the power of souls in my realm? What if they had succeeded, Nico? What if I had been unable to stop them before the ritual was complete? They would have been unbeatable. Olympus would have fallen and the world would have been plunged into an age of darkness and terror. And that is only if the ritual had _worked _and not destroyed half the solar system."

"Father, I am sorry," Nico said deferentially, staring at the floor of the throne room rather than looking at his father. "I had no choice. Mimas was going to hurt the people I care about the most. Bianca is gone. Reborn. I have so few other people, father, who I care about. And who care about me. I couldn't let them get hurt. I knew that you would be able to stop the ritual in time. Your power down here is absolute. Pulling the plug on that kind of ritual would always leave Mimas vulnerable. You and Hazel killed him because the ritual failed and he was weakened."

"Do not make excuses," Hades bit out. "You divulged secrets about the very heart of my realm, secrets of the utmost sensitivity. The other gods are angry at _me _for what you did, for almost making Mimas unstoppable. You have made me into a laughing stock amongst them. I don't care what reasons you have for doing it, Nico. You have let me down. Betrayed me, betrayed this realm and most of all you have betrayed yourself. You have no right to call yourself a son of Hades, someone sworn to protect my realm and uphold my honour. You are a disgrace to this House."

"Father—"

"Enough!" Hades roared, rising from his throne. "Your attempts to excuse yourself are frankly insulting to the both of us. You played with fire, Nico. And now you have been burned. You dare to come to me like this, having ingested mortal pharmaceuticals? Did you think that I would not notice? I am not stupid, Nico. You are halfway to being an addict already. I cannot have an addict as a son. The reputation of my children is bad enough as it is without adding _that._ The other gods think I do not know how to run my realm. Well, I'm going to show them that I do. You are hereby banished from Hades—"

Nico's head snapped up. His face had drained of colour and his eyes were wide. "What?! Father, no. Please, don't do this. Don't—"

"YOU WILL NOT INTERRUPT ME!" Hades yelled. "You are a traitor to the Underworld. To Olympus. You may no longer call yourself a son of mine. I revoke any rights, privileges and titles you hold. And most of all, I revoke your powers. You no longer deserve to have the powers of my realm and your disposal. You are weak and not worthy for them to be part of who you are. I am bitterly disappointed in you. Never have I wished more in my life that Bianca had lived and that it were you who came down to me from that junkyard."

Nico rocked backwards as if he'd been physically slapped. His mouth fell open. Hurt was written all across his face. "I resisted for so long," he said, his voice shaking with anger and emotion. "I tried my best, father, but I couldn't let Mimas hurt my friends. If that's dishonourable, if that's so abhorrent to you then I am sorry but it is who I am. And as for the drugs… do you have any idea what he did to me? I found a thousand new ways to hurt that I didn't even know about at the hands of Mimas. I am only mortal. I need to _heal_. So punish me all you want. I don't care anymore. You think you're ashamed to have me as a son? I'm ashamed to have you as a father. You who would see good people tortured to death just to protect your realm and your reputation. I'm sorry Bianca died, too. I'm sorry you didn't get the perfect child you think you deserve. So do whatever you have to do. At least one of us can say we did the right thing."

"Get. Out," Hades said slowly, deliberately, the ice in his voice somehow being more terrifying that if he had yelled. His throne room rumbled and coarse dust fell from the ceiling, raining down on the polished granite floor with a threatening hiss. Nico's sword suddenly vanished from its scabbard at Nico's hip and reappeared in Hades's hand. "This belongs to me. You are no son of mine."

He waved his hand and both Percy and Nico were engulfed in shadow that deposited them back in New York in the middle of Central Park. Nico was shaking, Percy realised, and looked like he might cry at any minute. He watched as his cousin fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out a box of Vicodin HP that Percy recognised as being from one of the pharmacies they'd been forced to knock over in order to get the medical care they needed in the war with the Giants. The Apollo cabin had done their best but with most demigods already running hot on too much nectar and ambrosia as it was there had been little choice but to turn to mortal medicine.

Nico popped out two pills from the blister pack and swallowed them dry, closing his eyes afterwards. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets — Percy could see his cousin's fingers close around the box of pills like a child would wind his fingers in a security blanket — and set off trudging through the park.

The memory faded again, swathed in green mist. When it cleared he found himself back in Rachel's apartment, the tinkling of Apollo's fountain playing in his ears. He sat up and rubbed his eyes; it felt like he'd been in a coma for the best part of a century.

"Hey," Rachel said, although she hadn't seen Percy wake. She was standing by the window with her back to Percy, leaning against the wall and staring out. She had pulled up the blinds and the sun blazed on her freckles and red hair.

"I had no idea," Percy said hoarsely. "No idea what he went through."

Rachel turned around, her face sad as she nodded. "I know," she said. "I couldn't believe it when I saw it."

Percy closed his eyes, massing them with the first two fingers on each hand. "That explains why monsters never attacked him," Percy said suddenly, letting his hands drop into his lap. "All this time I've wondered by monsters haven't jumped in and pulled his guts out through his mouth while he just sat there too stoned to remember his own name. It's been bugging me. But… he isn't a demigod anymore. Not technically. Not since Hades…"

"No," Rachel said. "No, he's not."

Percy felt lost. The enormity of what had happened to his cousin — and he had only seen a mere snippet of it — would take a while yet to sink in. He had wanted to know what happened to Nico more than anything so that he could help is cousin but now he knew more… he wasn't sure he could fix it, or whether there was even going to be enough of Nico left to save.


	5. Chapter 5

**If you can just imagine me playing chess here instead of writing, then this chapter coming out is me lunging for the little clock next to the board screaming, "I DID IT!" Yeah. This is perhaps my most timely update ever. **

**This is all down**** to JJdracula, who not only very kindly handed me her idea to play with but has also put up with the glacial pace at which I write. She also helped me out significantly with this chapter by sending me through a good portion of all that you see here. The scenes in Percy's apartment have large chunks of prose and speech I've lifted directly from her rendition of this chapter. Without her, I'd still be floundering in De Nile without a life preserver, gloriously denying the fact that I ever had another chapter to get done. So thank you very much for that. **

**Anyway, enjoy. People have been reviewing and requesting fluff because this has, admittedly, been a little dark. This is the start of Nico getting better, I promise. You may be satisfied, fluff hunters, with what you find within.**

**Marzipan over and out.**

* * *

><p>Nico sat back on Percy's sofa, shivering uncontrollably. Even though it wasn't cold outside a chill bit at his skin and leached into his bones. He had gone out to the small fire escape for more air but, even though he had only spent five minutes enclosed by the waist-high railings, he had begun to get claustrophobic. The feeling of entrapment was only exacerbated by the free movements of the people down below, going on with their daily lives in a way that he couldn't right now.<p>

That was the very feeling he'd been trying to avoid inside the apartment so, teeth rattling, he had retreated to Percy's couch and quietly used up all of the cartridges for his nicotine inhaler, one after the other. The nicotine burned acidly in his throat and chest and he had become-hyper aware of his heartbeat, which was skipping and stuttering on him as it pounded at his ribs, hopped up on nicotine. It had brought with it a dizziness that had sent the whole apartment lurching like a ship in a storm, which wasn't helping matters, so he lay down and closed his eyes.

His whole body was covered in a cold sweat but that wasn't just the nicotine overdose — he could feel himself aching for a fix. His stomach was twisting into knots, the coffee sloshing around unpleasantly.

He'd only ever been through withdrawal once, when he was out of money and had nowhere to score. Sometimes, the people he was mixed up with liked to make an example of a random person they dealt to, denying them what they needed so their withdrawal was a lesson to the rest of them to fall in line. Although he had people amongst his band of addicts (albeit a tiny minority) he trusted just enough not to shank him in his sleep, none of them were willing to share with him for the fear of going short themselves.

Addicts were not by nature generous people.

He vaguely remembered that, back then, the withdrawal had been bad enough to consider getting clean. He'd had a moment of sudden, blinding clarity where he decided he didn't want to be a waste of space anymore, where he realised what he was doing to himself, just how low he had fallen. Curled into a ball on a dirty concrete floor in a dingy basement, barely able to move to disgusting bathroom to puke or worse, Nico had told himself that it was over, that he was done.

That had been a year ago.

Even though he had been determined he soon learnt his willpower just wasn't as strong as he needed it to be. Halfway through the night he had dragged himself up and staggered off searching, eventually stumbling across someone else who was willing to give him what he needed on credit. It wasn't another dealer — few would cross Nico's particular dealer — just some stupid high school senior who had been desperately trying to grow a beard who had sneaked out of the house with a bottle of his mother's Xanax to try and make a few quick bucks.

He remembered it clearly even now despite how messed up he had been. The pressure of pills sliding down his throat without water, the sagging relief that came with knowing that soon they would work and he would feel better.

There had been a brief, haunting moment in which he had felt pathetic and beaten, wondering if he should stick his fingers down his throat to hurl the pills back up and continue with the plan to get clean, but then the drugs kicked in and things were just _better_. Thoughts and feelings that worried at him like a pack of savage dogs were tuned out to a background hum of blissfully serene white noise. At that point, he had vowed that he would never let himself feel the pain of sobering up again.

Yet here he was. Sat on Percy's sofa, pumping himself full with what could only be a dangerous amount of nicotine in the hopes of dulling the ache in his muscles.

Sighing angrily at what little effect the inhaler was having he sat up and hurled it across the apartment. The lack of a heavy impact it made was disappointing and didn't make him feel any better. It would have been more enjoyable to hear something smashing or shattering. At least then he wouldn't feel so powerless, so useless — he would have known that he could do _something_, even if that something was breaking Percy's stuff.

He exhaled heavily, calming himself down. Percy didn't deserve to come home to find his apartment in pieces. He was doing enough for Nico already without having to deal with that.

Instead of breaking things he got up quickly, intending to pace as well as his cramping muscles would let him, just to have some kind of impetus. The sudden movement made his stomach lurch. Completely forgetting his anger he covered his mouth and stumbled to the bathroom where he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and promptly threw up. He choked on bile dark with coffee a few times, struggling for breath against the stream of fluid and paltry remnants of pastry coming from his mouth.

There was a pause in the vomiting and he slumped forwards, resting his head on his arm and staring into the toilet bowl blankly. He was taking deep, shaky breaths to try and appease the nausea still churning in the pit of his stomach. Vaguely wondering how much more his stomach could possibly hold he braced himself as a second wave overtook him and threw up again. He carried on heaving until he'd completely emptied his stomach then shakily twisted himself so that he was propped against the bathtub, knees drawn up to his chest.

Biting his tongue at the stomach cramps caused by his treacherous digestive system still trying to expel stuff that simply wasn't there anymore, he dug his nails into his legs, trying to fight fire with fire. As he closed his eyes to stop the bathroom revolving like a demented carrousel he felt two tears squeeze out from beneath his closed eyelids. Anger overtook him again, this time at his childishness. He had been in situations a lot worse than this with a lot less to help him deal with it. Why was he _crying?_

Silently, he wished Percy were home. A little comfort and moral support wouldn't go amiss right now.

_No_. He heard the voice in his head. _You can't rely on anybody_.

Was that true, though? Maybe it had used to be when he had been living on the streets but Percy had been there for him. He'd helped him so far. Nico had subconsciously come to him when he was most vulnerable and Percy had saved him, brought him back from the brink. Percy was concerned for him, clearly. Couldn't he at least rely on that?

_But nobody has ever cared about you. Even your own father wants nothing to do with you. _

Nico angrily swiped the tears away and the scars covering his arms caught his eye. He glared at them then yanked down the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie until his hands were swallowed into the depths. Leaning his head against the edge of the bathtub he closed his eyes against the light streaming through the small window behind him, trying to block the painful memories from his mind.

He had no idea how long he'd sat there for but when he reopened his eyes the room was slightly darker. It was the only indication that any time had passed; he must have fallen asleep. The nausea in his stomach had quietened down now, luckily, although he was noticing a slight feeling of hunger — he had almost forgotten what that felt like.

He tried to straighten his legs out in front of him but had to stop halfway. The pleasantness of no longer feeling nauseated was immediately replaced by a wave of cramping in his legs and abdomen. As the pain stabbed at him, Nico was struck with one desperate thought. He wanted _relief. _Release.

Curling his hands into fists to fight against the craving he jumped up and wrenched open Percy's bathroom cabinet. He knew from earlier that there was nothing of note in there but he grabbed the small bottle of Tylenol he had seen before and tipped the entire contents onto his hand. There were only five pills left.

Fury surged through Nico and he felt an inexplicable hate towards his cousin. Of course Percy was so perfect that his bathroom cabinet had nothing stronger than five Tylenol in it. Not even Tylenol PM, just plain old Tylenol. Of course his cousin was so perfect and wonderful that that was all he needed. It just made him feel all the more screwed up to know that he wasn't the kind of guy that Percy was.

He looked up from the pills in his hand to the mirror on the inside of the cabinet — what he saw was a shock. He hadn't looked in the mirror since he'd taken a shower the previous night and if he thought he had looked bad then, he had clearly been mistaken. Back then, the ghosts of a couple of diazepam had still been flitting around in his system, helping him to skate through. Now, not so much.

His hair was plastered to his face and his eyes were half shut; his lids felt too heavy to have them open the whole way. His skin was waxy and shone beneath a layer of sweat and his shoulders were rising and falling rapidly with his accelerated breathing. The borrowed baby blue hoodie drowned him completely, with the neckline hanging low enough to display the jagged pink scar that marred the base of his throat.

When he swallowed, the scar bobbed with his throat and his eyes snagged on the reflection of it in the mirror. Feeling panic rising within him combined with a sudden fear that Percy was watching, that he would see what he had been reduced to, he quickly brought his hand to his lips and swallowed all five pills, washing them down with water from the sink. He knew that it was futile, that they weren't going to give him what he needed, but he had to do _something _to make this go away_. _

After it was done he looked back up to his reflection and his face burned with shame. What had he done? The abrupt urge to throw up again seized him; he suddenly wanted the pills out of his system but there was just nothing left in him to come up. He bit his bottom lip and turned from the mirror, the possible promise of pain relief enough to make him open the bathroom door and once again enter the living room.

The light was much brighter out of the bathroom and he squinted against the onslaught spilling in through the living room's much larger windows. Again panic reared its ugly head from almost nowhere, robbing him of the ability to breathe properly and sending his heart pounding in his ears. The windows were so big— what if somebody outside had seen him? What if _Percy_ had seen him?

The anxiety spilled over into action and almost before he knew it he was running to the windows, yanking down all the blinds. When he was done he found that that darkness and privacy was a little more soothing and he leaned against the wall, sinking to the floor. He found himself right next to where the nicotine inhaler had landed and reached for it greedily, dragging deeply on it. He was beyond caring about how ridiculous it looked.

The long hit did nothing and Nico scowled at the inhaler, shaking it angrily. Perhaps he'd burned through another cartridge. He'd used all that Percy had given him and so he was officially out of nicotine. A whole new wave of panic at _that _thought struck home and Nico lurched to his feet, shoving the inhaler into his pocket and starting to pace.

As he walked his hair, seemingly having developed a mind of its own since he had actually washed it, bobbed in front of his vision and tickled his cheeks where it was sticking to his face. He gritted his teeth and furiously scrubbed it off his face with his stupidly-long sleeves; when he was done raking his hair back from his face a flash of something caught his eye.

Blinking, he stopped dead in the middle of the living room, slowly letting his hands fall to his sides. He cocked his head, subconsciously already holding his breath to allow him to hear better. He could have sworn that he'd heard footsteps continue on for just a fraction of a second after he had stopped pacing, almost as it someone was following him, mocking him.

Certain that something had moved behind him, he twisted around as quickly as he could, but there was nothing there. He turned slowly on the spot, trying desperately to see if anybody was there with him but the apartment was empty.

Finally, he had to breathe again and he let out his breath in a shuddering gasp, sucking another one in gratefully. He was about to put it down to his imagination when he saw it again, in a different place. It looked like the shadow of a person, darting swiftly from one location to the next. He spun around again, ignoring the way his shaky legs felt like they might give out on him at any minute.

"W-who's there?" he stuttered. He stopped still, breathing heavily. "Percy?"

"Not quite," said a girl's voice from behind him.

* * *

><p>The despair at the enormity of Nico's problems began to fade and was replaced with a fierce anger at the unjustness of Hades. Percy got to his feet with rage rising within him.<p>

"I can't believe Hades would do that," Percy said to Rachel. "How could he do that to his own son?"

Rachel sighed sadly and crossed the space between them, touching Percy's arm and guiding him out of the room. They returned to the kitchen and Percy took his previous seat at the kitchen island while Rachel stood on tiptoe to reach into one of the cabinets.

"No more coffee," Percy said immediately. "I don't think I'll drink coffee again after your little secret came out."

"Don't be such a baby," Rachel said. She had fetched two tumblers down from the cabinet and placed them on the counter in front of Percy. "You _loved _that coffee until you knew how it was processed. I don't see what difference it makes."

Percy opened his mouth to argue with her but all he got was the swish of a ponytail in his face as Rachel turned on her heel, moving towards the dining area. She picked up a blown-glass decanter with an amber liquid in from the sideboard and returned to the kitchen, pouring both herself and Percy a glass.

Percy eyed it suspiciously. "What are you giving me now, Bengal tiger pee?"

Rachel sniffed haughtily. "Don't be smart. It doesn't suit you. It's scotch, okay? Drink up."

Given what he had just seen Percy had no trouble taking a sip from the glass. The alcohol burned harshly at the back of his throat and he choked, barely able to swallow it.

"What now?" Rachel asked bemusedly, placing her own glass back down having had a much larger drink than Percy had had.

"Strong," Percy croaked out.

Rachel quirked an eyebrow. "That would be the point," she said. "Have you never had scotch before?"

Percy considered briefly. "I'm guessing Jack and Coke doesn't count?"

Rachel's nostrils flared. "No," she said tartly. "First of all, Jack Daniels is bourbon despite what the distillery may try and market it as, not a scotch. Secondly, if you suggest that I fetch you a blue freaking Coke to add to twenty-year-old single malt I won't be responsible for my actions."

Percy rolled his eyes good naturedly. They were all by now far too used to Rachel's sudden outbursts of class, which marked her as a product of Clarion and her parents' money despite her protestations to the contrary, to really pay much attention. "Fine. Can I at least get some ice?"

Again Rachel's nostrils flared, wider this time that before. "You may have some room temperature distilled water and like it."

Percy nodded his acceptance and Rachel returned with a bottle of distilled water, using some of it to dilute his scotch. Percy took another sip and it went down slightly easier this time and did actually make him feel a little better, helping to dull the anger that was bubbling up inside him.

Rachel sat down at the island and stared into her own glass. "Look, Percy, I've got to say this. Please don't think I'm trying to excuse what Hades did, but—"

"No _buts_!" Percy interrupted with. "He rejected his own child. His own flesh and blood. Took away the only real connection Nico had with _any_thing. How can you sit there and try to justify that?"

"I'm _not_," Rachel snapped back, taking another fortifying sip of her scotch. "I just said that. But, Percy, _but_ you have to try and see it from Hades's point of view. After _millennia _of scorn and disdain from his family, centuries on centuries of only being allowed to visit Olympus once a year during the Winter Solstice, he had finally gained a level of respect and acceptance. He had a throne on Olympus for the first time. His family weren't treating him like an outsider for the first time in so long.

"And I know he's a god and so you can't really apply the same rules to him as you can for humans but can you imagine how good that must have felt? For once not to be treated as something less than you are? Nico threatened that by what he did. And I know that it wasn't Nico's fault, I'm not saying it was, but suddenly Hades had a situation that threatened to take away everything he had ever wanted and return him to what he was before — the father of maniacs who did nothing but wreak war and destruction on humanity. He had to prove that he was above that."

Percy took a gulp of his drink, suddenly wishing he hadn't asked Rachel to dilute it. The harsh burn of the neat scotch would have been welcomed right about now. "How can you tell me to see it from Hades's side?" Percy said darkly. "After all he's done. Rachel, he trapped the Oracle in a _mummy _for sixty years. I would have thought that you of all people—"

"Would have known what it felt like to be treated as if people know you by your reputation alone, to consistently be made to feel like a disappointment to your family?" Rachel asked pointedly. "Oh yes, Percy. I understand that _perfectly._ What he did to the Oracle was wrong but the woman he loved had just been taken from him by his own brother, all because he loved her too much to let her go."

Percy studied her briefly, his forehead creasing into a mild frown before it all clicked into place. "He came to visit you, didn't he?" Percy asked softly. "After what happened to Nico?"

Rachel nodded. "He did. And he _explained. _No one ever gets to hear his side of the story. And he felt terrible, Percy. I have never seen a god who felt so awful for something they had done. He knew that he had let the acceptance of his family and his throne on Olympus cloud his judgement and he was _sorry. _He wanted to make things right. He came to me to ask me to help him find Nico, so he could try and make it up to his only son. But… he did too good a job. Just like Nico fell off the monsters' radar when he had his powers revoked, he'd also fallen off _my _radar. I couldn't find him."

Percy sighed heavily, running a hand across his face. Rachel topped up his glass from the decanter and went to add the water but Percy waved her off, throwing a gulp of scotch back neat and relishing the burn. Rachel smiled encouragingly and did the same. Now, on top of everything, he had to try and feel pity for _Hades_? A god who made his dislike of Percy very clear? He was so ready to be angry at someone and now Rachel dumped this in his lap. What now?

"I didn't even know gods _could _revoke their kids' powers," he said eventually.

Rachel shrugged. "Their kids' powers are a part of them, in a sense," she said. "Your powers come from water and the ocean. Poseidon is, effectively, water and all the oceans. They're his domain just like the Underworld and shadows belong to Hades. It makes sense that they can cut their kids off from them. The way I see it, the powers are different from being a demigod. I mean, some demigod kids have hardly any powers because their parent isn't that powerful themselves. They're still a demigod by DNA. Their genetic makeup makes them physically a demigod and the powers are just… an embodiment of that. Hades took away Nico's powers but it's not like he ever stopped him being a demigod. That just isn't possible."

"That explains why Nico didn't burn up I fed him the ambrosia," Percy said. "Stupid! I thought I was helping him and I could have killed him. I had no idea what I would have done if he hadn't still been demigod on the genetic level and… Yeah. Gods, I didn't even consider that he wouldn't have his powers. I never thought anyone would do that to their _kid._"

"Why would you?" Rachel said. "No offence, Percy, but you have a pretty good relationship with your father. For a demigod, at least. And you have an awesome relationship with your mom. You never know what your parents are capable of until you don't have that kind of relationship. I got stuck with Clarion against my will and my mother throwing painful designer creations and sons of the Vander-surname families at me whilst simultaneously trying to catch me out as a closet lesbian because of my lack of interest in men. Not. Fun."

Percy snorted a reluctant laugh and stared down at his drink. He _was _lucky in that respect, he supposed. Wait," he said suddenly. "Nico shadow-travelled to me. He appeared in my apartment in the middle of the night…"

"That's how he reappeared on my radar," Rachel said, nodding. "That's how I knew that he was back. It was like everything between his banishment and that moment had been like… on pause on the Oracle's TiVo or something and suddenly when Nico shadow-travelled it all caught up to real time."

"You knew he was back and in such a mess and you did nothing?" Percy asked, unable to keep incredulity out of his voice.

Rachel got up again, walking over to a desk festooned with apparently every Apple computer product on the market at the moment. She reached beneath the stack of nerd porn and collected a couple of inches of paper from the printer, returning to hand them to Percy.

"I printed these," she said. "Lists of the drugs he's taken and their withdrawal symptoms. I thought… I thought that it might help. There's some info there for Betty Ford as well. Just tell me who the make the cheque out to and he can stay there as long as he needs. I mean it. I didn't come over because… I thought it might make things worse. He needed to take it slow, Percy. I didn't want to give him too much too soon. I _wanted _to but… he already had you. What else did he need?"

Percy lifted the first sheet of paper on the stack between finger and thumb, his eyes blurring on the reams and reams of text. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said it that way. You were right. He was pretty… intense."

"Hades said things would be bad if he ever shadow-travelled again," Rachel said sadly.

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, half-listening to her and half-reading the side effects of benzodiazepine withdrawal.

_Agitation. Anxiety. Restlessness. Panic attacks. Paranoia. Dizziness. Muscular spasms or cramps. Perspiration. Hot and cold flashes. Delusions. Nausea and vomiting. Photophobia. _

The list appeared endless and the hopeless feeling returned. He reached for his glass of whiskey again, which Rachel had just topped off for him. The burn wasn't as severe this time but was still welcome. All of this stuff just from _not _taking drugs?

"Hades said that he had made it so that if Nico was ever in real, mortal danger he would be able to shadow-travel," Rachel said. "It would have to be pretty bad but it would trigger a shadow-travel that would take Nico home. Hades thought that that meant that Nico would return to the Underworld but… I guess his subconscious had other ideas."

Percy blinked. "Me?" he said. "Nico thinks I… I'm _home_?"

Rachel nodded and drained her glass. "Yes," she said simply. "Nico thinks — _believes _on a really deep, subconscious level— that wherever you are is his home."

* * *

><p>Nico jumped and spun to face whoever was in the room with him. He let out a strangled sound when he saw who it was. The girl had long black hair down to her waist that shimmered with health, perfectly complimenting the glow in her olive skin. She was wearing a silver parka over a long white dress and gold ringlets adorned her hair.<p>

It was Bianca and yet at the same time it _wasn't_ — the girl in front of him was his sister without any of his sister's flaws, eerily beautiful. Her voice was different, too — it was strange and ethereal. Although her appearance bore a lot of resemblance she sounded nothing like his sister.

"Bianca?" Nico choked anyway, even though he knew it couldn't be true, that his sister was gone for rebirth. It was just that he had never expected to see her again, not ever, and here she almost was. The scabbed wound her death had left reopened again with a harsh stabbing pain, bleeding a new torrent of emotions he had thought were long behind him.

"Yes, Nico," she said flatly, without the faintest trace of his sister's familiar smile on her uncannily perfect face.

"How is this possible?" Nico asked breathlessly, his chest aching and hope flaring deep within him. Maybe she wasn't gone like he had thought; maybe she would stay this time…

"It was made possible by you," Bianca said serenely.

Nico felt his breath hitch with pleasure and he took a step forward towards her, intending to hug her, to ask her how this was real, when she spoke again. "I had to tell you that I hate you," she said, her voice cold and harsh. Ice had crept into those faintly familiar features; she sneered down at him haughtily.

"What?" he whispered. The hope that had been building inside him was punctured and he felt it deflate; as it withered to nothing his legs almost gave way, as if the hope had been the only thing keeping him upright. Before he knew it, his eyes welled up and tears were spilling down his cheeks again. This time when he tried to speak, even he could barely hear his voice. "Why?" he croaked.

Bianca snorted a derisive laugh. "Because you're a disgrace to the house of Hades. Nobody will ever love you._ I_ didn't love you, your so-called '_friends'_ have never loved you... Even our mother couldn't love you." Bianca's expression twisted into one of disgust. "You are unlovable."

"No." Nico shook his head rapidly, refusing to look at the _thing _that looked like his sister. "No, no, no." He looked up at Bianca and she grinned. "You are not my sister — you aren't _real_! I am seeing things. You are not there, you're a hallucination. A fucking hallucination!" He carried on shaking his head, but even pressing his hands over his ears couldn't block her out. She was inside his head; she knew him, all the darkest depths and all the buttons to push. It didn't matter how many times he told himself that she was a manifestation of his drug-deprived subconscious — she kept talking.

"Look at me Nico!" Nico kept his head down. "LOOK AT ME!" Her voice was so terrifying, so raw and disturbing that Nico's head snapped up.

What he saw next he was sure he would never forget. Bianca's face distorted. Her hair rose up into tendrils that snapped at the air like vipers. She roared with anger and her mouth opened wider than a human mouth could ever have to reveal jagged yellow fangs and a forked tongue fluttering with the volume of her screech. Her eyed glowed yellow and the pupils narrowed into slits as the skin of her noise simply melted like wax, flattening back into her face and leaving her nasal cavity yawning darkly at him.

The monster his sister had become flew straight towards Nico, screaming like a banshee. Nico screamed as well, completely unashamed of his fear, and ducked down, curling into a ball. The instant that Bianca reached him she disappeared into a haze of smoke and the apartment went deathly silent but for Nico curled on the floor, crying uncontrollably.

"No," he gasped out, screwing his eyes tight shut. "No, no, no! I can't do this, Percy! I can't do this!" He scrabbled for footing on the hardwood flooring and eventually got to his feet, looking fearfully around the apartment.

The urge for a handful of pills suddenly arose within him, hitting him like a sledgehammer. Never had he felt so desperate for something just to make him stop _feeling. _He couldn't even think about Percy anymore. All he needed was a couple of tiny little pills to make it all go away, to make things better again. If withdrawal was going to treat him to alarming and disturbing hallucinations then he just couldn't do it. There was no way he wanted to experience that again.

He made a dash towards the door and pulled it open, yelping with surprise as he ran straight into Percy, who was poised on the other side of the doorway with his keys ready in his hand and a sheaf of papers under the other arm. He looked shocked at Nico's sudden appearance but grabbed him by the shoulders anyway. Both keys and papers hit the floor, the papers exploding into a flurry of white across the hallway.

Nico could feel the sweat running down his neck and his heart racing in his chest. He twisted in Percy's grip, frantically trying to get away, but Percy was a lot stronger than he was.

"Nico," Percy said calmly and carefully, trying to look him in the eye. "Nico, look at me."

Even though Percy hadn't become angry or even raised his voice, there was something in his tone that made sure that Nico couldn't disobey the order. Nico stopped twisting and stared Percy in the eyes, a haunted look flitting across his own face. Breathing heavily, he was pretty sure he looked absolutely terrified but he couldn't stop himself. However, Percy's hands were firm on his shoulders and he had nowhere to go so he sagged down, the fight leaving him, forcing Percy to catch him before he hit the carpet.

With barely any effort, Percy hauled Nico back across the threshold and helped him to the couch. Nico curled up in the miserable ball at one end, staring at his knees to try and avoid looking at the place he'd seen Bianca. He let his hair fall over his face and hid behind it, trying to steady his breaths.

"Nico," Percy sighed. "What's happened?"

Nico tried to say something but he couldn't make his mouth move. Instead he shook his head, tears of frustration and anger prickling at his eyes. His fists were clenching and unclenching as he fought to regain control. He tried to mumble something but couldn't form the right words so he shortened the sentence to just one word: "Can't."

He couldn't relive recent events, what he had just seen. He was a complete mess, he knew it, and he was ashamed to tell Percy of just how bad things were.

"Nico—" Percy tried.

"Can't!" Nico said again, yet another spike of panic rising within him as he thought about what had happened, how he would have to tell Percy about it. "Can't, can't!" Nico shook his head again, feeling his windpipe begin to constrict and his lungs begin to draw less air as bubbles of anxiety built in his chest.

Percy placed a hand on Nico's shoulder but Nico flinched away from his touch, curling up tighter away from Percy. Then, without warning, he pulled himself to his feet and hurdled over the back of the couch, lunging for the door.

Percy was faster, however, and jumped up, slamming a palm on the closed door as Nico grappled with the knob, hopelessly tugging against all of his cousin's weight. He couldn't get the door open but kept trying desperately, rising to hysteria.

"Need!" Nico shouted desperately. "I need it, Percy! Shit! Let me go! I never should have come here. All I'm doing is dragging you down with me. Please, Percy, just let me go. You wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. Just let me go and get what I need and I'll be gone for good, I _promise—_"

"I'm not letting you go out there, Nico," Percy said, cutting off Nico's pleading firmly but calmly. "I am not letting you walk out on me again. Calm down."

Nico continued trying to fight with the door but he didn't have the energy. Instead he turned on his cousin, aiming a clumsy punch at the side of Percy's head, which Percy easily swatted away as it had been a fly. Again Nico's legs failed him and he sank to the ground, leaning against the door. He suddenly felt so exhausted that he could barely breathe; despair weighed on him like lead.

"I'm sorry," Nico murmured.

"Nico, stop it," Percy said. His tone was soft but still commanding and Nico once again felt an inability to ignore him. He opened his mouth to say something else but instead just burst into tears. Not the silent tears that he'd cried just a few minutes ago but loud, undignified sobs. Everything was just so screwed up right now. It was like he was sitting at the bottom of a deep, dark well without even the faintest glimmer of light to let him know that the top was there, to give him hope that he might one day reach it.

And this was his _life. _This is the way it was now. The worst part of it was that he could see all the bad decisions that had brought him here, every footstep down this dark road and not only did he know that it was all his fault but he wasn't sure he would have done it differently given a second chance. Who wanted a life where you had to _feel _things and have stuff actually be real, have people that actually mattered to you?

"This is all my fault," Nico gasped out between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Percy. This is all my fault…"

He clutched onto Percy with an iron grip and refused to let go, a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. They stayed crouched in the doorway for quite some time before Percy could talk Nico back into the living room. He supported Nico back onto the sofa before returning to the door and subtly turning the deadbolt, hoping that the simple lock would delay Nico for just long enough if he tried to escape again.

Then he then fetched a blanket from his bedroom and wrapped it around Nico's shoulders in an attempt to stop him shivering before setting the kettle on the stove for a hot water bottle to slip underneath the folds of the blanket.

All the while he kept trying to get Nico to speak but Nico had retreated into the blanket like a tortoise into his shell and was a hairsbreadth from catatonic, huddled deeply and starting into space. He was rocking back and forth slightly, Percy realised, and his lips kept forming words that never materialised into sounds. He was staring particularly at one spot in the apartment in a way that made Percy shudder and cross to the windows, pulling up all of the blinds.

When Nico heard him open the bathroom door he flinched, remembering that he hadn't flushed the toilet after puking, that it was likely that Percy had found splashes of vomit on the tiled floor. He heard Percy take a sharp intake of breath before the toilet flushed. Nico heard him shuffling around in the bathroom, assumedly cleaning up the mess.

He closed his eyes, shame and self-loathing burning inside him. All he did was cause Percy trouble. All his cousin did was give and all he ever did was take. He was like some kind of parasite. Not!Bianca had been right — who could love someone who screwed up as much as he did? He looked over his shoulder to the apartment door and saw that it was locked. Any thoughts of trying to leaving fled his mind immediately. He barely had the strength to make it to the door, let alone fiddle with locks.

Percy suddenly bit out a sharp curse word from inside the bathroom and emerged in the doorway to the bathroom. Nico closed his eyes again, refusing to look at him.

"Nico, is there anything you want to tell me?" Percy asked.

Nico stole a glance at Percy from the corner of his eye and saw he was holding the empty Tylenol bottle. He swallowed loudly. He'd completely forgotten about that. How could he have been so stupid to leave that out in the open like that? As if he hadn't caused Percy enough worry for one day.

"I'm sorry Percy," he whispered.

"Sorry?" Percy demanded; for the first time he sounded angry. He crossed the room to stand in front of Nico and poked him in the chest. "You're _sorry_?! What did you do?"

Nico couldn't bring himself to look at Percy so he retreated deeper into the blankets, a redness creeping over his face and neck as he saw Percy's fear. "It's nothing, I'm sorry. I'm fine, Percy. I—"

"Bullshit," Percy snapped at him, cutting him off. "You're _fine? _That's the weak crap you're giving me? You puked your guts out in the bathroom. You're sitting there practically catatonic after having a complete meltdown while I was gone and shutting all the blinds. Nico, I don't care about any of that crap. I don't even give a shit that you tried to attack me with your sorry-ass excuse for a right hook just so you could escape. I don't care: I forgive you for all of that. You are family. You are my friend. I wouldn't care if you ate all of the food in the fucking fridge but I'm trying to _help_ you! I can't do that unless you let me!"

Nico realised he was crying again and got frustrated at himself for not keeping his emotions in check, even though this time he was only crying because he had no idea how else to express his gratitude. He had no idea what he had done to deserve Percy.

Percy let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. Gently, he placed the empty Tylenol bottle down on the table in front of Nico. He exhaled again and sat down on the coffee table next to the empty bottle, leaning in towards Nico. "I'm sorry I yelled," Percy said, his voice drastically softening. "I'm not mad, I promise. I'm just _scared, _Nico. Look, I'm trying to help. I trusted you and now I feel like I can't leave you alone. Do you know how badly this can mess you up if you take too many?"

Nico flushed, filled with guilt and shame at Percy's words. He hadn't thought about it that way. Percy had trusted him and he had completely blown it. He'd felt like Percy was being selfish in leaving him alone but he wasn't — he was showing him that he had faith and this was how Nico repaid him, by terrifying him with an empty bottle of pills and a bathroom full of puke.

"How many did you take?" Percy asked. "Do I need to take you to the emergency room?"

"Five," Nico said quietly.

Percy had picked up the bottle and was reading the back. At Nico's words his eyes widened. "_At the same time_? That's it, I'm taking you to a doctor," Percy said finally, shoving the bottle in his pocket. "Let's go."

"No," Nico said, shaking his head. "I can't go to a hospital. It's like a freaking candy shop for me in there, Percy. They give out pills like fucking M&Ms to people who are barely conscious enough to notice if you just slip in and steal their little paper cup. Look, I only took five pills. That's two thousand five hundred milligrams. Less than the daily recommended intake for acetaminophen. I'll be fine."

Percy looked torn, chewing on his bottom lip. "That's not the point, Nico," he said.

Nico managed a weak eye roll. "Look, I wasn't… I wasn't trying to kill myself," he said quietly. "Believe me, if I had been that's not the way I'd do it. Acetaminophen OD is awful, especially if you don't do it right. Your liver fails for a few days and then you die after all that agony. I was just in pain. I kept getting these muscle cramps."

"That's a lot of Tylenol for muscle cramps," Percy said evenly.

"I wasn't trying to do anything drastic," Nico reiterated. "I just didn't think it through. If I wanted to be dead I'd have taken a swan dive off the fire escape. I think we're high enough to make that work out."

Nico realised that that hadn't made Percy better the way he thought it would and sighed. His cousin apparently didn't appreciate his brand of dark humour. "Will you quit the mother hen act if I promise to eat more of your ambrosia laced soup to safeguard my liver?" he said, and for a moment all the sarcastic wit that made up the old Nico was back again for just a split second. "Seriously, Percy, it's seen worse. My check liver light probably came on like a year ago."

"Fine. But the second I don't like what I see, you are going to a doctor," Percy said firmly. "I don't care if I have to tie you up in that blanket and drag you kicking and screaming all the way."

Nico nodded, then he shifted guiltily under the blankets and pulled out his nicotine inhaler. "I kind of… abused this, too. Percy, I'm so sorry, I just… I started seeing things… I can't…"

"Nico," Percy sighed, running a hand over his face and taking the inhaler from his cousin. "One cartridge is meant to last a day! I gave you eight. No wonder you were having freaking hallucinations. You just absorbed enough nicotine to give a brontosaurus a heart attack. That and coming down…"

Nico shut his eyes again. "I'm so sorry," he said, apologising for what felt like the millionth time. He would keep apologising for as long as he felt it was necessary — currently, that looked like pretty much from now until forever.

"Don't be," Percy said. He knelt down to reach Nico's eye level and reached out to touched Nico's forehead, pulling at a lock of hair that was stuck to his face so that he could check his temperature. "We're going to get through this, you get that, right?"

Nico opened his eyes again and looked straight at Percy. Percy had never seen him look so scared or helpless.

"Help me, Percy," Nico said, his voice cracking like it had all the way back in Mimas's cavern.

Percy managed a half smile. "Believe me, Nico — I'm trying."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello.**

**I'm sorry this has been so long coming out. I don't know what I was doing, really. I just kept putting it off and putting it off, writing bit by bit. Whoops.**

**But my grandfather died this Thursday and I decided that it was time I stopped putting things off because, well, life is finite and there's no excuse to not do things because at the end of the day you're only wasting your own time.**

**Anyway, this chapter is quite filler-y. Not a lot happens in it but I'm busy building characters. Bear with me.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Nico woke on the couch, safely cocooned in the blanket Percy had brought him the previous night. His second day of waking up in Percy's apartment was already a lot better than the first, he noted. The nausea of yesterday had been replaced with just a dull gnawing in the base of his stomach. His head hurt but not the way it had pounded yesterday. The light coming in through the closed blinds still stabbed at his eyes, but it wasn't with the searing intensity it had had before. His mouth still felt like it was packed with cotton and his various muscles grumbled at ached the moment he had become conscious but he felt more... <em>normal.<em>

However, underneath the relief of almost feeling _good _for a change was a dangerous undertow of need. His body, although he admitted that he felt physically better without, was still demanding what it had been used to getting over the past years.

Benzodiazepines. Opiates. And, to a certain extent, alcohol.

He wondered if that need would ever go away.

He pushed the thought down deep inside him, chalking it up in the column labelled 'Shit to be dealt with later'. One day at a time and whatever bull they spouted at addicts. People got over addictions every day, he tried to remind himself. Soon, he'd just be another success statistic.

In the meantime, though…

A cold shudder ran through him before he gave himself a mental shake and stretched, emitting a tiny and embarrassing squeak as he did so. It was nice, for the moment, to not feel an inch from a panic and/or heart attack. It was also nice to not see any dead sisters waiting to haunt him.

The apartment smelled like coffee and warm cinnamon. He could also hear voices whispering, so he kept his eyes closed and halted his plans of rolling over, pretending to still be asleep. Apparently, the voices were engaged in a conversation so engrossing that no one had noticed that he had stretched.

"...not the same person anymore," said a woman, who had a voice that Nico knew he should recognise but was feeling too fuzzy in the head, coupled with too warm and comfortable, to really do a lot of thinking.

"He _is_," Percy insisted, accidentally raising his voice above a whisper before quietening down again. "A lot of things about his life have changed but he's still the same person who appeared on my fire escape on my birthday and ate blue cake. He'd never had a birthday cake before that, Annabeth. He's still that scared and lonely and lost and sad and confused little kid."

"He was tortured, Percy. Then cast out by his own dad. What if he's damaged? He needs to get professional help. Someone who specialises in addiction and PTSD. There have got to be ex-military doctors out there who will be right for him. Let Rachel pay for rehab. It would help him and you and... all of us. I'm not trying to say you should just _get rid _of him but I just… think he needs more than any of us know how to give."

Nico sat up, glaring sullenly into the kitchen. There was a blonde woman with her back to him. Her hair was long and tied (literally, in a knot) into a bun which was supported with a pen and a No. 2 pencil. Annabeth.

"I'm not a package that needs delivering," he said sourly. "And I have ears, so let's not discuss me as if I'm not here, mmkay?"

Annabeth turned. Although she was only in her early twenties, the same as Percy, the hair made her look a lot older, as did the grey pencil skirt and matching jacket she was wearing over a cream silk blouse with ruffles down the front. She looked tired as well, like she had got too used to studying too hard all night and sleeping too little.

"Nico," Annabeth said, clearly having been wrong-footed by Nico being awake. "I'm sorry," she added, and she sounded sincere, Nico noted. At least that was something. "I didn't mean to— I thought you were sleeping. Welcome home. Please don't run out on us like that again. We were going out of our minds trying to find you."

"And now you've found me you want to stick me in some stupid clinic and forget about me?" Nico asked, folding his arms. "Great, thanks, Annabeth. You're a real friend."

Annabeth's face tightened. "No, that's not what I meant at all," she said. "Honestly, I don't want to sweep you under the rug. That's not what I'm trying to do here. I just... Nico, what happened to you... it was bad, okay? And I want to make sure you get the best help available for you. What you've been through is so awful, all I want is you to be you again. Not... this."

"And what would _this _be?" Nico asked defensively, still riled.

"Not you," Annabeth said simply, clearly doing her best to be placatory. "I want you to be well again. The way things were before."

"That me was weak," Nico snapped. "That is not me anymore. I have changed so much since then. If you start trying to spackle over the parts of my past that you don't like then that changes who I am _now_."

Annabeth suddenly looked even more tired. She put down her coffee on the table in front of her and sighed. "Nico, please don't be like this. I'm not trying to be difficult, you get that, right? I don't want to have you not be you anymore. I'm not looking to give you a personality transplant. I just want what's best for you. _We _want what's best for you. And that might be a clinic, that's all."

"Percy?" Nico asked shortly. "Care to weigh in on this _we _crap she's throwing around?"

Percy stared down into his own coffee, looking as if he wished he could dive into the mug and swim to safety. "I don't know," he said ambiguously. "I just… I don't know. I love you, Nico. We all do. You're the kid brother none of us ever really wanted—"

"Gee, thanks," Nico said with a snort of derision.

"Come on, you know what I mean," Percy said. "But Nico… Annabeth is right. What you've been through… Do you really think you can sleep it off on my couch?"

Nico's face darkened. "Well, we won't know until we try, will we?" he said tartly, eyes flashing.

Percy sighed. "Annabeth—"

Annabeth's nostrils flared and she stood abruptly, almost knocking over her coffee. "Fine. Look, like I said: it was just a suggestion. A suggestion with a decent amount of common sense behind it but there we are. I'm going to be late for my internship," she said. "Nico, I'm so glad you're back. Percy… think about it, okay?"

Percy blinked. "Annabeth… you can't just—"

But Annabeth had already leant across the table, pecked Percy on the cheek, fetched her purse and was heading out the door.

Nico glared at the closed door after she was gone and then threw the blankets off him. He stood and once again the room lurched; however, he was more than used to that by now and took only a moment to stabilise himself. He stretched and his back and neck all popped in noisy unison.

Without a little something taken with a nightcap he'd slept fitfully on and off, more dozing than actual sleeping, still aware of what was going on around him despite everything. That was despite the fact that he'd been physically and mentally exhausted by the events of the previous night. Between that and the shadow travelling, he'd been drained, which was the only reason he'd managed to get any sleep at all, but if even that didn't guarantee him some decent sleep, he didn't know what would.

Well, he did, but it was off the menu, so…

His stomach glugged unpleasantly and he wasn't sure if it was hunger or a fresh wave of last night's nausea. Was this the way it was going to be from now on? He was just going to feel like crap for the foreseeable future?

Annabeth hadn't helped. Her words, her implication that he couldn't cope with everything that had happened to him had just made him doubt himself even more. What if he wasn't strong enough? What then? He would never admit it, would fight it tooth and nail, but Annabeth didn't usually get stuff like this wrong.

He sighed. His legs felt weird and he almost fell back down again. He grabbed at his thighs to make sure that they were actually his legs and realised that neither his legs of his arms felt like they belonged to him, as if he were just some kind of bizarre floating torso.

Huh. That was new.

He looked over to Percy, grateful that his cousin was there even though he was currently staring into his coffee and not saying anything. It took the sharp edge of the bite of the panic he had felt last night at being left alone.

Annabeth had left almost a whole plate of French toast on the table so Nico managed to encourage his legs to work and moved to the table, sitting down in her chair. He grabbed her coffee mug, noticed she had put cream in it and grunted with disgust, pushing it away from him. Instead, he began to pick at her abandoned French toast with his fingers; the first few bites filled him up and after that it was only really a dissection rather than a meal.

"I'm not going," he said to Percy, pushing the shredded remnants of Annabeth's toast away from him. He got up and crossed to the coffeemaker and poured himself a mug. He leant against the counter and took the first sip. Nirvana.

"No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to, Nico," Percy said. "But… this is as much about what you need as what you _want. _Perhaps you _should _want to visit a clinic somewhere because, let's face it, you kind of need to."

Nico's face darkened. "Oh do I?" he demanded, slamming his coffee down on the counter behind him and slopping it all over the work surface. Some scalded his hand and he relished the burn. It helped block out the sudden pressure he was feeling behind his left eyeball as the headache he woke up with reached a crescendo. It also served to remind him that, despite the tingling numbness in his hands, they were still his. The shrill ringing in his ears that he'd begun to hear last night kicked up a notch, too.

"Do you know another way to get better?" Percy asked.

Nico's nostrils flared and he moved to the fridge, wrenching it open. He took stock of its contents for a moment and fetched the carton of orange juice, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig from the carton.

"That's kind of disgusting," Percy said mildly, although clearly it didn't bother him.

One of Nico's eyebrows quirked and he shot Percy a quizzical look over the carton. He finished drinking and put it back in the fridge. "No," he said. "_The Human Centipede _is disgusting. That was just mildly unhygienic. Besides, I saw you do it in the middle of the night when you thought I was asleep."

Percy had the decency to look busted and said no more on the subject. "You shouldn't be so hard on Annabeth," he said suddenly instead. "She really does want what's best for you. And she's working so hard on this internship. They take on like fifteen interns at some fancy architect firm and gradually thin the herd over the course of the program until they've only got three people, who then get the chance to interview for a job there. It's a big deal to her and she's working fifteen hour days minimum on it. She's not exactly at her best right now."

Nico sighed. "I thought she was a bit… off," he allowed. "No fun being on edge for that long." He retrieved his coffee from its puddle on the counter and stared into it, suddenly seeing why Percy had found it so addictive. It was just another way to delay dealing with what lay outside the mug.

"No," Percy agreed. "It's not. I think… I don't think you could have come back at a worse time for her."

Nico scowled. "Oh, well next time we should fucking exchange schedules then, shouldn't we? I'll get my imaginary assistant to email her imaginary assistant and we'll find a more convenient time for _her. _I mean, as long as it's good for _her._"

"I didn't mean it like that," Percy said, and he had a bite to his voice. "Don't talk that way about her. I just meant that she's not herself right now and perhaps you coming back… made things worse. Don't judge her on the Annabeth you just saw. She's been mainlining venti coffees for weeks instead of sleeping while on the Starbucks runs they're having her make despite the fact that she's a kick ass architect and has an entire heavenly city under her belt. Not that she can just use Zeus as a reference, of course…"

Nico felt almost sorry for her and buried his face in his mug, grunting into it. "Okay, so her internship has her working just like a slave getting flogged to drag blocks up the side of a pyramid in progress. Fine. That sucks for her, I agree. But I'm still not going to rehab. I got dealt a shitty hand by life. I turned to drugs as a crutch to help me deal with that. I get that. But I'm not going to get better by changing the crutch from drugs to a rehab centre or, gods, _group therapy._"

"And no one is going to make you," Percy said. "But you have to know that it's seriously on the table right now. I'm not going to drag you kicking and screaming, not yet, but it's not an option that's going to go away. Nico this isn't like… I don't know, baking cookies or something where the worst thing that could happen is you burning them and ruining a baking sheet or whatever. Just because the monsters are in your head doesn't mean it's any less serious than fighting _actual _monsters. If you screw up, you could die. Just the same as in a real battle."

"Only you could equate a battle for your own life to baking fucking cookies," Nico muttered darkly.

"I never said it was a good analogy," Percy said defensively. "But you get the meaning behind it, right?"

Nico did, which sucked. The fact that he had woken up that morning and his first thought had been about drugs really hammered it home. He didn't _want _to see Percy's (read: Annabeth's) viewpoint, and yet… He sighed and drained his coffee mug, nodding glumly.

"I do," he said.

Percy was coming through loud and clear. Nico understood that he got a total of zero screw-ups before Percy hauled his ass to rehab. The thought made panic flutter disturbingly at his ribcage and Nico regarded his cousin warily. He had always assumed that Percy would help to fix things, would be an anchor for him, but now not so much. Clearly, Percy disagreed drastically on what was best for Nico and, as such, Nico was already mentally preparing himself to cut and run if he had to, no matter how much pain it would cause him.

"You want my coffee?" Percy asked, pushing the untouched mug away from him. "I don't take as much cream as Annabeth."

Nico blinked. Not that he wasn't glad for the subject change, but he had been pretty sure that Percy would continue pushing the rehab discussion, pushing Nico towards it. Maybe he didn't have to run after all.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" Nico asked suspiciously, edging close to the table cautiously and looking at the coffee like it was Acme Premium Birdseed and Percy was using it as bait in some elaborate trap.

"Nothing," Percy said mournfully, wishing he could just drink it. He wrinkled his nose. "I went to see Rachel yesterday. She told me the secret behind her kick-ass coffee and it's kind of put me off."

"You didn't know about the Asian palm civet thing?" Nico asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

"You _did_?!" Percy said, choking on incredulity. "And you still drank it?"

Nico shrugged. "Good coffee is good coffee. Hard to find. And they do _wash _it after collecting it, you know."

Percy rolled his eyes. "You sound just like her. Here. Take it."

"That's because she's right," Nico said, adding a snort of derision. He picked Percy's mug off the table and took an exploratory sip. The cream ruined it, but it was passable. "So… how… how is Rachel? And why did you go and see her?" Baby steps. The further away from talk of rehab the better.

"She's fine," Percy said. "And… I needed some answers," he said awkwardly. He scratched his chin, clearly considering his words carefully before he continued. "You weren't exactly in a fit state to give them and I needed to know what the deal with you was. You scared the hell out of me, Nico."

"You asked Rachel to _spy _on me for you?" Nico demanded, anger flashing behind his eyes. The mug was frozen halfway to his mouth. So much for getting off the topic of his past indiscretions.

"She didn't have to," Percy said. "She already knew it all and not by choice. You know how the Oracle mugs her."

"You still didn't have to go and ask her about it!" Nico said, the heat in his voice rising.

"I did," Percy said firmly. "I had to know what was going on. If it was something I could even fix. I had to know what you needed before I could actually help you, Nico. And Rachel was the best way to do that."

Nico felt mutinous. He could feel a tic growing in his tightened jaw. Percy had invaded his privacy majorly by doing what he did. Instead of just _asking_, he'd gone running to Rachel to try and get answers. Although some part of his brain distantly recognised that Percy had already seen the worst and still thought that he could help, which maybe kept rehab off the menu for now, there had been stuff that Nico hadn't wanted Percy to know. That and other stuff that he would have told Percy in his own sweet time but now… He knew he should be grateful that Percy still wanted to help after all of that but really he was just mad.

"Did it never occur to you that maybe, just maybe, there should be some things the great and mighty Percy Jackson shouldn't know? That maybe some things were private and better left buried?" Nico asked.

"They weren't buried," Percy said patiently. "Rachel already knew about it."

"You didn't know that!" Nico snapped, raising his voice. "There was no way that you knew that Rachel already knew everything and yet you went to ask her anyway. You went there specifically to spy on me."

"And was that such a bad thing?" Percy asked, raising his voice as well. "Nico, you came to me asking for help. You deserve help and you'll get it from me but don't I deserve to know _why _you need help? I can't fix something if I don't know how it's broken. You are my friend. You're family. Not knowing what had happened to you was one of the worst things I've ever been through. But that doesn't change the fact that this is a two way street. There were things I needed to know."

"I would have told you," Nico said, mentally kicking himself for the quaver suddenly in his voice. "Percy, I would have _told _you. You're right, you do deserve it. But you should have just _asked_."

Percy pursed his lips. "Okay," he said. "Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to do. I'm sorry, Nico. Maybe I should have just asked you. But would you really have told me? Would you have been honest enough to give me everything I need to help you?"

"I guess now we'll never know," Nico said. His eyes glittered dangerously but then his face crumpled. He looked down at the table and sighed. "There were parts of my past, Percy, that… I'm not exactly proud of. I don't want to have lived them, let alone have other people watch me live them. It's _embarrassing_."

"I get that," Percy said.

Nico laughed bitterly. "Fuck off do you get that. Look at you. You've never put a foot wrong anywhere, Percy. Looking back at your life would be a picnic. And don't get me wrong, that's why I look up to you. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy. But my life hasn't been like that. I've screwed up left, right and centre."

Percy sighed. "Nico… you know what happened to you wasn't your fault, right? Your capture, all of the things you did while you were down there… it wasn't your fault. That wasn't you screwing up. What you did, going to scope out the Doors… that was _brave._"

Nico grunted.

"Did you know that your dad came to see Rachel after you disappeared?" Percy asked. "Why did he do that if he blamed you entirely?"

Nico looked up at his cousin and blinked. Percy was obviously trying to change tactics because his first choice of tactic wasn't working but this was a low blow.

"You're lying," Nico said. "My father hates me."

Percy laughed. "Seriously, Nico? When have I ever lied to you?"

Nico scowled. "Uh, how about the time you said that you had some errands to run and then went to see the Oracle to have the intimate details of my life spilled out in front of you?"

Percy sighed. "Besides that."

Nico considered. "Well, there was that time where you tried to pretend that a full on makeout session with Annabeth was CPR training," he said. "As if that would fool _any_one."

It was Percy's turn to scowl. "Hey, you shadow travelled in unannounced."

"It was the New York _Public_ Library, Percy," Nico said. "You weren't exactly being subtle."

Percy actually blushed. "I like it when Annabeth gets her smart on," he muttered quietly. "I can't help it."

Nico smirked. "Yeah, I worked that out. On behalf and me and everyone in the New York Public Library that day, _thank you_."

Percy got to his feet and began clearing the table. He stacked plates in the sink, where the kitchen paraphernalia for French toast was already lurking. "You're changing the subject," he said as he looked at the detritus from breakfast and turned his back on it with a shrug. The dishes could wait.

"Well, I didn't like your topic," Nico said. "So I picked a new one."

"No one said you had to like it," Percy said firmly. "Listen to me. Your dad was sorry for what he did. I'm not sure these are official figures, but I'm guessing the amount of gods apologising to their children and admitting that what they did was wrong is pretty close to zero. He wished he hadn't done it. He tried to find you, but you were hidden too well."

Nico scoffed. "Even if I'm meant to believe that, the whole reason he couldn't find me was that _he _wiped me off the map. No one else did it. No one else forced him to. He just cut me adrift."

"He told Rachel that he had let his new acceptance on Olympus get to him," Percy said. "He thought that their opinion mattered more than anything, even more than you. He knows he was wrong now. I mean, I think… I think he actually misses you."

Nico paused and swallowed hard. Then he said, "Pretty good way to avoid missing someone is not casting them out in the first place. I mean, I'm no god or anything but I thought something like that would be kind of obvious to our supreme lords and ladies." Thunder rumbled outside and Nico's nostrils flared. "Bite me!" he yelled to the ceiling. "You're lucky that's the worst thing I'm saying about you guys."

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nico, getting yourself Kentucky-fried by lightning probably won't help. And I don't really need a skylight either, especially because I'm on the ninth floor of a fifteen storey building. So maybe keep it down? Just a thought."

Nico clenched his jaw, trying to keep the anger inside. It had an almost physical burn, like acid reflux. "Fine," he said tightly, letting out a slow, deliberate breath. "Fine. I get that it's a big deal that he recognises that he was wrong. And maybe... maybe we can go back to the way things were. Eventually. On my terms, when I'm ready and when he apologises to my face. But my point still stands. He cast me out, left me to deal with everything without any of my powers, completely cut off from the only place I'd ever felt like home. I was too ashamed to even tell any of you what had happened. I couldn't deal with your pity."

Percy looked at Nico for a long time, so long that Nico began to get uncomfortable. He squirmed in his seat.

"What?" he finally asked at last. "Don't look at me like that. It looks like you're thinking. It's a weird look on you. I'm not used to it."

"So it was nothing to do with the fact that you liked being cast out that you disappeared?" Percy asked.

Nico felt the sting of outrage, like Percy had slapped him across the face, but that quickly faded when he realised that, in a lot of ways, Percy was right. Nico had never really thought about it before, but... Damn. He had forgotten that Percy was a lot smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for.

"What do you mean?" Nico asked innocently.

Percy shrugged. "Mimas sent you to hell and back, Nico," he said. "Over and over again. He brought you to the brink of death, made you do terrible things. He forced you to betray your father, betray _Olympus. _And I'm guessing all the time you spent underground was primetime for Gaia's little chat show in your mind. I don't even want to know what she was whispering to you while you were trapped. To have come out the other side of that at all, even like this, makes you one of the strongest people I know. But are you seriously telling me that after all that, after you were tortured and used as Gaia's puppet, after the Giant War, you weren't the tiniest bit grateful for what your father did?"

"Grateful?" Nico echoed, not able to muster up enough sound to give his voice the full power. His mouth had dried out.

"Grateful to be out of it," Percy said. "Grateful to be free. For the first time, there were no monsters on your tail, no apocalypse, no Titans, no Giants, no nothing. You could do whatever you wanted for the first time in your life without any demigod stuff getting in your way. And you're telling me you didn't enjoy that?"

Again rage pulsed in Nico and he wanted to get up, to flip the table over, to tell Percy to shut up because he was wrong, but it quickly faded. The anger he was feeling was directed inwards in the form of guilt and shame. Letting it out would do little good and it would just have to get in the queue of reasons to beat himself up internally. He looked up at Percy and nodded, for a moment not able to trust himself to speak.

"I..." he swallowed. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.

Percy was rendered temporarily speechless. "What... you... why are you _sorry_? You don't have to be sorry."

Nico shrugged limply. "I just... left everything behind. And I _enjoyed_ it. No responsibilities, no worries, no monsters, no ghosts and hearing dead people... That's not the life a demigod is meant to live, is it? It feels like I cheated somehow."

"I think you did what anyone at Camp would have done," Percy said, looking up and catching an incredulous quirk of Nico's eyebrow. "Okay, not the drugs," he amended. "Maybe not _that _but if you ask half the people there… They're kids who have been attacked by monsters, seen friends get killed by monsters, been hounded from their families just because they're demigods. I bet that they'd say they'd take the chance if it were offered. To be _normal_? To not have to worry about being attacked? To actually have a life expectancy that maybe includes a high school graduation, let alone a college graduation? I think they'd go for that. They'd bite your hand off. I don't think you're a worse human being for liking it, Nico. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Nico looked up and locked eyes with Percy, all the better for catching Percy out if Percy gave an untruthful answer to his next intended question. Percy's eyes were as calm and impassive as they normally were, but there was a depth of wisdom in them that Nico had not been used to seeing. Apparently, they had both done a lot of growing up since they had last met.

"What about you?" Nico asked, his gaze still trained on Percy like a laser. "Would you take the chance if someone offered it? I mean, obviously you didn't want to be a god. So would you want to be the opposite? Plain old vanilla mortal?"

Percy looked shocked at the question, like he'd never considered it before. He broke his gaze away from Nico and stared down at the table, running his fingers over a patch of wood that was burned and blistered, like some acid-breathing monster had hawked up a loogie on it. They probably had, Nico reasoned.

"Would I take it for my mom?" Percy asked. "Absolutely. The stress and the worry, the fact that she always thinks that maybe today is the day I come home in a box… And I would have chewed my left arm off to not have been such a giant freak growing up. She had to marry Gabe, keep finding me new schools, always sacrificing her happiness for mine… I'd take it for her. She deserves to not be scared, for once in her life."

Nico smiled sadly. He had no one for whom his normalcy would be a gift. "That's not the question I asked, Percy," Nico said. "Would _you _take it?"

Percy bit his lip. "Without… this, without everything… If there had been no Camp Half-Blood, I don't know what I'd have done," he said eventually. "There'd be no Annabeth for a start, no you… I'd have never become the person I am today. I'm not saying it didn't suck sometimes and it wasn't hard, but… no. I don't think so."

"What about everything this has taken away?" Nico said. "All of those roads you couldn't travel because of who you were? The stuff you couldn't have done that you could have done if you were normal and didn't have to save the world every five minutes? All of the people we've lost to this life? Come on_, _Percy."

"Those are the things that define who we are, Nico," Percy said. "We are shaped by the roads we can and can't travel down and the people that we've loved and lost. I'm not saying it doesn't suck, but you were just saying to Annabeth that what had happened to you had made you who you were. It's the same with being a demigod, right?"

"It's different," Nico said, shaking his head. "I don't know how, it just is. Being a demigod and the weight of all the responsibility that comes with… it's just different from all the shit I went through. Worse, even. Even after the past couple of years and hitting rock bottom, it doesn't compare to being a demigod. I lost my sister, Percy. And my mom, and all the memories of my mom's last moments. I was kidnapped and tortured by Gaia. I had to do the worst things just to stay alive and my father disowned me for it." Nico felt his heart sink as he spoke. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I guess you're just a stronger person than I am."

"Nico—"

Nico got up from the table, shaking his head. He didn't know why he'd asked Percy whether Percy would have changed everything. Of course Percy wouldn't have changed a thing. That was his nature. What did that make him, though? If Percy could cope with it, then why couldn't he? Shame and embarrassment flushed his face. Obviously this was why he had turned to drugs, because deep down he knew he wasn't as good a person — as good a _demigod_ — as Percy and everyone else at Camp.

Great. That was just what he needed to brighten his day. A reminder of why he sucked compared to everyone else he knew.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was half of the reason he'd disappeared to begin with; it was all too much to contemplate.

"Can I take a shower?" Nico asked. It was the only time he could guarantee that Percy wouldn't be there trying to make him feel better or whatever ridiculousness his cousin was embroiled in. He needed time.

"Of course," Percy said. "Knock yourself out. But Nico—"

Nico, who had already turned his back on Percy as he moved towards the bathroom, cut Percy off with a flap of his hand.

There was only so much he could take in a day, and it wasn't yet even noon.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm sure you know the drill by now. Blah blah, long time coming, blah, sorry, blah.**

**Real life just likes to get in the way, as is its wont. It's like it doesn't care that I have fanfiction to write and people want to read it or something (for some reason I am yet to work out XD). For instance, I was meant to post this on Sunday but my laptop celebrated the new year with a hearty drink of champagne and it made the keyboard stick and because it thought that keys were being held down it wouldn't boot properly. I thought my hard drive was fried, which is always fun. But it's fine; we're all up and running now. I just need a new keyboard for it and will have to remember that it cannot hold its alcohol.**

**I guess it's back to drinking alone then, if my laptop will not join me...**

**Okay, so we're heading more upbeat now. There's been a lot of doom and gloom and godsbedamned if there won't be some light-heartedness to come. And okay, it's still pretty gloomy but at least it's not all hair-rending, teeth-gnashing angst.**

**Please enjoy.**

**Thanks as always to the wonderful and lovely JJDracula, who didn't, I don't think, realise what she was getting herself into when she came to me with this idea. I am glacial. The North American Plate is moving away from the Eurasian Plate faster that I update this, sometimes. I think she wanted a whole story much more quickly than I am able to provide it but she's still hanging in there, gods bless her, as are all of you.**

**Thank you to everyone who had read and reviewed so far. You cannot know how much it means to me, even to look at the traffic and see the number of hits let alone to get a review out of it. Reviews scare me; I leave them in my inbox for a very long time and then open them enmasse while drunk because being complimented is mortifying to me (it didn't happen a lot as I was growing up) and I deal poorly with it, but I want to think you all sincerely all the same.**

**Happy New Year,**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>The shower was just as good as he remembered yesterday.<p>

The water was hot, plentiful and pounded from the showerhead with the same force of his last twenty showers pre-Percy's apartment combined. Nico stood under it for a long time, hands braced against the cool tile of the shower stall.

He watched the water lazily circle the drain at his feet and swirl into oblivion and then closed his eyes. Of course he should have seen that coming. Asking Percy to give up being a demigod was like asking him to give up breathing.

Percy lived for the entire demigod package and the more Nico thought about it, the heavier the weight on his chest became. He had just admitted that he had felt _happy _to be free of it all, for once in his life, only to be confronted with Percy, the perfect solider of the gods, who would only see an end in death.

He was weak, so _weak_, and apparently incapable of turning the knowledge of that weakness into a desire to be better. All he felt was a deep sense of misery at his own pathetic existence, at the fact that he could never live up to someone like Percy, that there were people in the world right now who were doing a far better job at living life than he was.

He sighed heavily. What now? Did he stay with Percy and wait for his general worthlessness to drag Percy down with him, or did he try and spare Percy that and make it on his own? Even if Percy sent him off to rehab, which Nico suspected he might, Nico would still be a millstone around Percy's neck even from afar in a clinic.

Percy had gone behind his back by giving him ambrosia, gone behind his back by seeing Rachel, and the more Nico thought about it, the more he thought that Percy had dosed the coffee in the coffeemaker with ambrosia. It was the only thing that, combined with shame, would explain the sense of feverishness that was beginning to overtake it body and the final subsiding of the symptoms he'd been suffering from.

His lungs had been bubbling as he breathed and coughing had made him almost pass out through exertion and lack of oxygen. That didn't get fixed without some serious divine intervention.

Percy said that he wanted the best thing for him, but _did_ he? Or did he just want what _he _thought was best for Nico, which would be entirely different from what Nico thought was best, naturally.

Nico shoved the sopping hair out of his face. He'd accidentally used conditioner instead of shampoo, so his hair felt slimy and weird. He hoped it rinsed out okay.

Percy was probably on the phone now booking Nico a ticket to Betty Ford. One way. If Percy had truly seen what Nico had done during his captivity, the things he had done for Mimas' amusement, then there was no way Percy would even want to look at him for longer than necessary.

And why should he? Percy was the paragon of good, and Nico… well, goodness was just one of many wagons he'd fallen off in sixteen short years.

Nico could barely look at his own reflection; he couldn't imagine how Percy managed to stomach spending any time with him at all.

Percy hammered on the door. "Hey Nico!" he called. "Are you okay in there, man? You didn't drown, right?"

Nico shoved his head under the showerhead and started to rinse. "I'll be right out!" he yelled. Slowly, he began to massage the conditioner out of his hair. It would give Percy time to pack a bag for him, print off his boarding pass and organise a cab to the airport and make him Betty Ford's problem.

Not that Nico would lie down and take that (if Betty Ford even had a minors wing, something he made a mental note to look up later); he'd be back in the wind at the first given opportunity. All he wanted was some time to get straight and be with people who said that they cared about him (although probably wouldn't anymore once they found out everything he'd done) and if he couldn't find that here in New York with Percy then he guessed it wasn't meant to be. But at least Percy was trying to help him. It was probably more than he deserved, and more than anyone else would be willing to do with him.

"Good," Percy said. "We're leaving in half an hour. I asked Rachel to meet us for lunch."

Nico stopped rinsing and stared at the door. He was going to get to see Rachel _and _food before they packed him off to sober school? Huh.

He started washing again and when he was done turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He unlocked the door and peered out at Percy quizzically.

"You don't have to take me out to dinner and use Rachel to stage an intervention just to tell me you're sending me to rehab," Nico said. "I get it. No one needs to break anything gently to me anymore."

Percy blinked at him. "Wait... do you _want_ to go to rehab?" he asked.

Nico wrinkled his nose. "Does a bear shit in the nearest conveniently located public bathroom and flush afterwards?"

Percy snorted. "I'll take that as a no?"

Nico shook his head.

"Then you don't have to go," Percy said simply. "I'm not going to force you, Nico. Not right now, anyway. As long as you start doing better and stay on the straight and narrow, I'm not going to pack you off to rehab just yet. You just need to promise me that you'll work on it."

"I don't have to go?" Nico asked in a faraway voice. "You… want… me to stay?"

"Why, did you have somewhere else to crash?" Percy asked, rolling his eyes. "We'll talk more about this later, okay? I still think that we need to get you to talk to someone soon, about the Mimas stuff and the drugs, but when you're ready. Rachel might have some ideas. I don't think that sending you away is the best thing right now."

The words rang in Nico's ears and he grabbed the doorframe to stay upright. The relief and shock of finding that Percy didn't want to send him away, was willing to share his home with such a monumental screw-up, had practically knocked him over.

"But Annabeth—" Nico started.

"Doesn't... always get these things right," Percy said hesitantly. "But _don't _tell her I said that. Annabeth is amazing and super-smart and I love her but she doesn't always excel with emotional intelligence. She thinks that you break your arm, you take some ambrosia. Or, if you're a mortal, you break your arm, you go to hospital. You get a cavity, you go to the dentist. You get captured by an evil giant, used as a plaything, fall off the rails and start using drugs... you go to rehab. For her, it's that simple. She has a lot more faith in the authority of clinics and doctors than I do."

"I am going to do better," Nico said. "I promise, Percy."

"I know that you mean that right now," Percy said. "Just try and stuck to it, okay?" He tossed a bundle of clothes at Nico. "Here. This is some stuff that doesn't fit me anymore. Find something and put it on. I'm _not _going out with you dressed in the clothes you turned up in. Even I have some standards."

"Really?" Nico asked dryly, giving the pile of clothes the stink eye. He picked an acid green t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on the front out of the pile with his thumb and forefinger, holding it aloft as if it were made of a toxic substance. "If you say so…"

* * *

><p>Nico felt ridiculous, wandering around Manhattan in clothes that didn't fit.<p>

He trailed behind Percy, acutely aware of the jeans gaping at the waist and the rolled-up hems coming looser with every step. It probably looked like he was a child dressing up in his dad's clothes or something equally as ridiculous. Nico had no idea that rifling through Percy's castoffs and finding the smallest items of clothing his cousin owned would be such a torment.

The reflection staring back at him from the plate glass window of an expensive boutique made him wince. The long-sleeved shirt he was wearing was tie-dye. Actual mother of fucking Zeus almighty tie-dye if you could believe it, and even in the reflection in the window, which dampened the colours with a muted grey, he felt his retinas sear at the sight of it. But it was the smallest shirt Percy owned and so here he was, Nico di Angelo, wearing something that looked like a clown had puked on it.

If anyone saw him like this they'd never take him seriously again, not in this lifetime.

Sneering at his reflection he tugged miserably at the shirt, all but oblivious to the busy pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk thronging and snagging around his stationary form, right up until he got some woman's purse to the kidney as she jostled to get past him.

He whipped around angrily, his fists balled, but whoever it was had already been swallowed up by the crowd. Sighing, he turned back to his reflection. If anyone from Camp turned up now then he'd have to just kill them, end of story, just so they'd never be able to tell another living soul.

That wasn't completely unreasonable, right?

With a final dark glare at the window-version of himself he turned to continue walking but realised he had lost Percy in the crowd the same way he'd lost the bitch with that purse full of bricks. Percy clearly hadn't seen him stop and had kept walking.

Nico froze and felt his mouth dry out almost immediately as he scanned the crowd looking for his cousin. He suddenly felt so vulnerable standing there all by himself, alone in a big city full of a thousand different kinds of vices that would very much like to tickle his fancy right now. He had come to Percy because he wasn't capable of sorting this out himself, wasn't strong enough to say no, and now Percy was gone.

Immediately, a map of the city seemed to light up in his head; he knew of so many different places he could score right here in Manhattan, no questions asked. All he'd need was some money; someone would have left their wallet hanging out of their back pocket, surely? It would be so _easy _and he could—

**No**_._

Nico blinked at the firm inner voice that had barked that at him. He had never heard it before, had never known that it had existed before this very moment.

_No?_

As in no way, no how, not gonna happen, forget it kind of no?

He had no idea he actually had much of a concept of that word.

The street and the noise and the crowd began to flood back in again, assaulting all his senses at once. He hadn't realised that he'd been blocking it all out but he had; for a moment, everything had faded into almost nothing — nothing apart from the goal of getting high. That had been the only pinprick of light in his whole consciousness and now the street and the people were back again, so loud and so bright that it dimmed what had been that previously blazing beacon into insignificance.

This was real. This was here. This was now. These people and their clamour were what made up the world he had to stay in, one without a pill or two here and there to smooth out the kinks and bumps.

Sucking in a lungful of air he crammed trembling hands into his pockets and let the breath whistle out through his nose. His eyes darted around, focussing on the pieces of gum on the sidewalk, the license plate of a cab, a scruffy pigeon pecking in the gutter, and let it ground him. It was different now: it wasn't just his life he was going to fuck up and throw away. Percy had a part in this too.

_Yeah, all thanks to you_.

Well. It was good to know that the voice wasn't always encouraging. Where would the balance be in that?

His nails were digging into his palms as he fought to maintain his cool. Fine. He would be _fine_. If he could find Percy, listen to some more of that inane chatter of his, get centred—

A hand closed around his wrist and he looked up, using the free hand to push hair out of his face. He expected to see Percy but what he saw made him choke. His eyes widened and he shrank back towards the window of the shop, the free hand now dangling by his side with fingers scrabbling at the glass in a desperate attempt at escape.

The grip on his wrist tightened painfully; he could feel the bones grinding and he hissed in pain.

"You think we couldn't find you? You think we wouldn't look for you just because you're on the Upper East Side now you little brat?" The voice was rough, gravelly, and it accompanied the words with a yank that nearly tore Nico's shoulder out of joint.

Nico yelped in pain to the extent that even people in New York City took a second glance, although no one stopped, naturally.

"If you don't stay quiet, kid, things are going to get ugly," the man said quietly, bending down so no one but Nico could hear.

Nico's wrist was squeezed harder and Nico felt his knees buckle with the pain. As a demigod he had been through his fair share of injuries, and even more since being cast out into the world alone, but this was pain like he had rarely felt. It was as if his wrist were being slowly crushed in a vice.

"Leave me _alone_,_" _Nico bit out through gritted teeth, tears of pain and anger and maybe even a little fear prickling at his eyes. He glared at the man in a way that had made monsters tremble once upon a time, but it had no effect now he was powerless.

Maybe that was all it had ever been, the lunacy of the Underworld threatening to leap from his eyes. Maybe he was just pathetic without its backing.

All Nico saw was an amused face with pale blue eyes staring back at him, lips twisted into a nasty grin around chipped and broken teeth. The man holding him had a tribal tattoo that started behind his ear and wound down his neck and onto his chest, all too visible because of the low V his t-shirt scooped down into. Muscles bulged everywhere, seemingly all with their own muscles.

Derek Andall — big-time thug, part-time drug pusher and muscle for hire for some very shady people Nico was unfortunately acquainted with — probably weighed three times what Nico did.

None of it was idle fat.

"Or what?" the man asked. "What are you going to do? Kick and scream and run away again? I can't believe I found you. I wasn't even looking, just doing a drop and then you walk right into me. I didn't even think it was you at first. You went and got all pretty for me."

There was the sound of a large flick knife opening and Nico felt the blade press into the small of his back, cleverly hidden from the passing people on the street.

The breath hitched in his throat and the fight went out of him. Not only did he fell pathetic without demigod powers and without his sword, which he hated, that was just the start. Not only was he just some _kid _now in the face of danger, but this whole situation was a reminder of the life he had left behind so recently and it was threatening to (literally) drag him back in and… he sort of _wanted_ it to.

Sure five minutes ago he'd been ready to ditch that life for good but hey, he was an addict. They weren't well-known for their reliability. And was that so bad really?

Cold turkey _sucked _after all.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," the man said, starting to yank Nico in the opposite direction to which he and Percy had been heading. "You little bitch. I can't believe you thought you could get away with running out on us. The money you owe? You are _ours_."

Nico took a desperate glance over his shoulder, searching for Percy in the crowd. There was no familiar face or shock of black hair coming back for him, though, and it felt like something inside him had been pinched out like a candle flame.

If Percy _had _been making his way back for him then maybe it would have been some kind of sign, some kind of higher power telling him that he ought to stay with Percy and give this shit up for good, but Percy _hadn't noticed_ that Nico wasn't there. He probably didn't care, was probably _glad_ that Nico was gone and he had his life back.

He felt himself start to surrender but despite his increasing willingness the yanking got more intense and he tripped after a particularly hard tug. The paving stones bit into his free hand. The stinging pain was a wakeup call and anger surged within him, his nostrils flaring as he got a split second to examine the blood on the heel of his hand.

This would be what going with this guy would mean: pain and blood, all of it Nico's.

Like Hades was he going with this guy. Like Hades was he going back to his old life. No way. Not going to happen. It wasn't even just for Percy, either; this was something for him.

When Nico had tripped, the guy had had to hide the flick knife as it was now exposed to people on the street, so Nico took the opportunity to lurch forward and sink his teeth into the man's bare calf. Hey, if he was going to wear basketball shorts on the street and leave his legs exposed that wasn't Nico's problem.

Fuck it, just fuck it all on so many levels. He was not going to do this again, even though a tiny little part of him thought that a couple of dexamphetamine with a Xanax chaser for afterwards would be a gift from the gods right now.

The man yelled out loud and let go of Nico's arm; Nico's face split into a maniacal grin as he ground his teeth a little deeper into the muscle and then he was up and running in the direction he'd last seen Percy, just avoiding the man's flailing arms as he tried to punch Nico free.

Nico shoved through the crowd as fast as he could, pushing people aside as he ran, trying to spot Percy in the thronging mass of people. Apart from trying not to gag on the taste of Derek's leg and having to spit as he ran, fighting back had felt _good. _

The opportunity to stand up for himself hadn't presented itself for the longest time and his heart lightened, jumping, at both the sudden exercise and the thought that he was getting away. His old life had come calling, ringing the bell like some kind of demented Avon lady, and he'd told it go to fuck itself. That, right there, was achievement.

Not only that but actually getting to kick some ass (even if it was accomplished with his teeth but whatever) for the first time in a long time had felt _right. _Getting one up on a guy that looked like he breakfasted, lunched and dinnered on steroid-laced protein shakes was even better.

Someone snagged him from behind by a fistful of Percy's t-shirt and swung him around, lifting him off his feet. The material tightened around his throat, cutting into his windpipe, before he was slammed face first into the brick wall of an alleyway.

The air was driven out of him and his temple cracked against the wall, sending stars shooting in front of his vision. He'd been dragged so far from the street that between the concussion and the fear, the end of the alley and freedom looked like a tiny pinprick of light at the end of a very long tunnel.

"Listen up and listen good you little _fuck_," a voice snarled in his ear, sending hot, moist breath wafting across his face, "you are going to pay for that you snot-nosed, piece of shit _punk._"

Nico was spun around to face Derek, pinned off the ground with one massive forearm against his chest. He squirmed, raising a leg to kick but Derek drove his spare fist into Nico's gut, sending a wave of pain and nausea through Nico and making him go limp. He took a desperate look out at the crowd on the street but no one noticed him and Derek dragged him even deeper into the alley, grazing Nico's spine and ribs on the rough brick as he went.

"I'm not going with you," Nico gasped, his teeth clenched. "So do the world a favour and take a running jump into the path of the nearest speeding bus. Once they've scraped you off the street the Museum of Natural History can have you stuffed and put on display in a glass case as the missing link. You'll be famous." He grinned widely, knowing he was in trouble but past caring. It was worth it just to see the rage slowly dawn on Derek's face.

His reward for that comment was Derek's forehead to his face; he felt the crunch of his nose as it broke reverberate around inside his skull, setting his teeth on edge. His eyes immediately teared, clouding his vision, so he was forced to hear running footsteps coming towards him rather than see their owner.

Derek dropped him to the floor like a piece of garbage and kicked Nico hard in the ribs; even through the tears in his eyes Nico could see the bright red flash on the otherwise pale skin where his bite mark was still bleeding. The savage pleasure in that fact wasn't enough to completely block out the pain from the kick, but it went some way.

He saw the leg draw back for another swing at him but then Derek stumbled backwards out of Nico's line of vision. Nico frowned, sitting up hesitantly, testing to see how much his body could take and how fast. The answer was not a lot and he winced, placing one hand on his ribs and using the other to dash tears from his eyes and blood from his nose.

With clear vision he could see that his saviour was Percy; he had leapt on Derek's back and had his arms around his throat while Derek snarled and howled in outrage, bucking like a mechanical bull. Percy had Riptide in his hand but it kept flashing ineffectually through Derek's stomach as he bucked and reared, of course to no effect.

Nico rolled his eyes at the general uselessness of celestial bronze when it came to mortals. Honestly, who designed a blade that couldn't kill shit? He'd loved to have been in that particular design meeting and been able to give them a piece of his mind.

Feeling a pang for his own sword, long gone now, he braced his back against the wall and inched up to his feet, one hand still protectively placed on his damaged ribs. He was just in time to hear Percy yell and watch his cousin go sailing through the air, limbs trailing like a rag doll, to crash into a Dumpster. The force that Percy hit with dented the metal and Nico winced sympathetically as Percy slapped to the ground, limp.

Nico set his jaw, feeling rage boiling inside him. This was not Percy's fault, not Percy's fight, and it sure as hell shouldn't be his cousin's problem to fix. This was shit that Nico had brought to Percy's door and it was something he was damn well going to put back in the box right now, the one labelled as his past.

Then, if he had time, he might encase it in concrete and toss it into the Hudson. But later.

For now...

He ducked swiftly underneath an elbow strike Derek had aimed at his face. Derek's nostrils were flared; he was breathing hard and the tendons in his neck stood out like cables. He looked like a real bull this time, one who was acting as if Nico was dressed entirely in a matador's red cape, but his anger was making him rash. He wasn't dealing calculated blows; instead, he was just swinging wildly and Nico, who was more than used to dodging such blows, was doing a pretty good job of keeping out of Derek's way.

"Crap," Nico hissed as his ribs protested at the quick movements he was making.

"Two punching bags for the price of one," Derek gloated, his face splitting into a wide grin despite the fact that Nico had just twisted away from an uppercut to the chin that probably would have floored him. "Must be my lucky day or something."

Nico's eyes flashed with anger. "I am _no one's _punching bag," he bit out. He was done, he really was, with taking shit from anyone who wanted to give it to him. "I am Nico fucking di Angelo. Don't forget it." He swung his fist at Derek's face, for some reason imagining an action movie-style KO, where Derek would be out with a single blow.

Of course, this being real life (which _sucked_; the movies looked like such a better place to hang out) no such thing happened. Nico's fist barely made Derek flinch; it was like punching a block of stone and Nico felt one knuckle pop and pain flare through his fist and into his wrist.

Dislocated knuckle. Fan-fucking-tastic.

The human face is just not the best place to punch someone. The entire skull is designed to deflect such blows from getting to the squishy brain underneath, and if you get it wrong you end up punching someone in the mouth and shredding your hand on their incisors. And you do _not _want to get human mouth bacteria in an open wound. That is just asking for trouble.

Nico should have known that but for some reason it seemed like the most logical thing, to go for the haymaker across the face and knock Derek out, but he also should have realised that nothing ever went his way.

Derek laughed, properly threw his head back and laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of Nico's blow. "I've eaten bigger scraps of meat than you for breakfast. You think you can hurt me?" Although Derek's jaw was reddening and it would probably bruise, it hadn't been enough to stop him. Nico was like an ant standing up against an eighteen wheeler.

"Bet you've never had one of me on your plate," Percy said from behind them.

Derek half-turned to face Percy but before he was done Percy smacked him around the face with a spar of broken shipping pallet, sending him staggering backwards deeper into the alley.

"Why do _you _get the perfect movie action hero line?" Nico whined indignantly. "When you say something pithy and heroic it's all WHAM, two-by-four to the face. I try it and all I get is a broken hand."

Percy cocked an eyebrow as Derek recovered from the first round, the action making him wince slightly thanks to the deep split on his brow bone. "Should I be more worried about the broken hand or the fact that you know what 'pithy' means?"

Nico narrowed his eyes. "For future reference, this is my 'fuck you' face." He paused so Percy could get it caught in his imagination and wouldn't forget. "Okay? Got it?"

Percy didn't get a chance to reply because Derek came at him at a run, grabbing the piece of wood Percy was using and wrenching it out of his grasp. Percy ducked once, twice, under Derek's swings but then Derek changed pattern and thrust forward, jabbing Percy in the stomach hard enough to shove him onto his butt. Derek raised the spar of wood high above his head with both hands, ready to bring it down onto Percy, who waited until the last minute and rolled quickly to the side.

The makeshift weapon split in two on the concrete just inches away from Percy and Derek growled in annoyance, tossing the piece he was still holding aside.

Derek took a step forward but Percy had had enough; clenching a fist he tapped felt the power of the millions of gallons of water pulsing through pipes right below his feet. Feeling like a blind man with his power his senses crept along the tangle of pipework until he hit pay dirt: a water main.

The ground trembled. Cracks opened in the concrete below him, each bringing a slow glug of dirty water out into the open as they widened. The water flowed around Percy, who became an island in a rapidly-growing stream of water rising from the ground and splashing away into the street. Then the jackpot: the ground erupted, throwing chunks of concrete into the air and letting loose a geyser of water that rose way above them before directing itself at Derek, sluicing him into a corner and pinning him there.

Percy took some time to breathe through the slight dizziness bursting open the ground had caused (maybe he was out of practise?) before turning to Nico, his heart rate already slowing to almost normal.

"Walk," he said tersely, ushering Nico towards the entrance of the alley. He glanced over his shoulder at Derek, who was still firmly held in place, alternately gurgling for and then yelling for help over and over, and then left the alley. Together, the demigods slipped into the stream of people on the sidewalk and did their best to blend in, or the best blending that was possible when both of them were bleeding from the face.

"Percy—" Nico tried, sensing that Percy was pissed.

"No," Percy bit out, cutting Nico off. "I don't want to hear any excuses. I want to know what in Hades you were doing in that alley in that kind of company." He took one more look over his shoulder at shoppers parting like the Red Sea to avoid stepping in the torrent of water flowing out of the alley and then kept walking.

"I wasn't in there of my own free will!" Nico sputtered indignantly. "What? That's what you think? The guy dragged me in there. I didn't have a choice."

"Oh," Percy said and Nico noticed him relax considerably, his fists unclench slightly. "You weren't trying to… you know…?"

"Score drugs?" Nico said bluntly. "You can _say _it, Percy, without me going and doing it you know. Impressionable youth I am not. And no, I wasn't. _He_ found _me_. I guess… I guess they've been looking for me for a while now."

"Why?" Percy asked, glancing to his right and seeing his reflection in a plate glass window of a Starbucks. He hesitated, knowing that the way they looked right now was going to draw some unwanted attention, and then grabbed Nico by the arm and took him into the coffee shop.

Nico blinked in surprise at the new surroundings, taking in the tables full of people with identical buckets of coffee masquerading as mugs and identical MacBooks. "It's like… caffeine pod people," he said slowly, cocking his head. "Does the company manufacture them? I don't think I like this."

"Which company?" Percy asked dryly. "Apple or Starbucks?" He looked around and joined the back of the queue for the counter. "We've gotta get cleaned up," he said. "A gross Starbucks bathroom is as good as any gross bathroom on this block."

"Sure, and why not get overcharged for terrible coffee while we're here," Nico muttered under his breath, snorting a rivulet of blood back up his nose and feeling it start to forge a new path down his throat instead. He looked at the line in front of him and frowned. "Wait, you're going to _buy their coffee _to use their bathroom?"

"It's for patrons only," Percy said, blinking at Nico.

Nico closed his eyes and put his hand over his face. "Oh, gods Percy. Seriously? Let me guess: you've never shoplifted, right? I bet you haven't even _jaywalked._"

"Hey, I get in enough trouble in daily life through monsters and demigod stuff without inviting extra by pulling that kind of crap," Percy said.

"No one is going to arrest you for using their bathroom without buying their gross coffee, Percy," Nico said.

"I don't care," Percy said flatly. "It's a moral thing, okay?"

Nico rolled his eyes. "We are such different people," he muttered to his shoes. Percy was just so… _perfect _it was almost unbelievable.

"Tell me what the guy wanted," Percy said as they waited in line.

Nico sighed, rubbing the back of his head guiltily. He knew Percy would ask this sooner or later. "Money," he said eventually, shaking his head and studying the floor. "I owe them money and they're pissed."

"How much money?" Percy asked.

"A little more than I've got in my checking account right now," Nico snapped, rolling his eyes. Sometimes, Percy could be so oblivious. "I don't know how much, okay? Only they do. And it just keeps on going up. I sometimes work for them to pay it off but then if… if I ever need some… _stuff _from them they'd just add it on and add interest and I couldn't keep track."

"And if you don't pay?" Percy prompted, not sure he wanted to know the answer but digging deeper anyway to try and get a measure of just the kind of people Nico had got tangled up with.

Nico didn't answer, just held up both hands miserably and ashamedly, clenched into fists except for the pinkies. The right one looked normal but the tip of the left one veered off course. At some point it had clearly been broken and set very badly.

"They broke your _finger_?" Percy asked incredulously.

"They said I was lucky it wasn't my legs," Nico mumbled, tilting his head forward and allowing hair to fall in front of his face, all the better to hide the lip quiver brought on by the memory. "And I wouldn't put it past them, either. They said next time it would be."

Percy's jaw tightened and Nico saw the anger colour his cousin's face. He was grateful that Percy cared this much but at the same time was a little scared. It was rare to see Percy this mad and Nico had no idea where he was going to go with this.

"We don't need coffee," Percy declared, pulling Nico out of the line and walking him towards the door. "Tell me where they hang out, Nico. I think we'll pay them a little visit and show them just who they're messing with."


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay. So… yeah. I know this has been a while. Three months. Whoops. I'm so sorry. BUT I have asked many people to bully me into writing with my long Easter weekend, so I think I can get another chapter out by Monday night (British Summer Time)! Especially if everyone who reads this chapter (if anyone is still left…) also bullies me into writing more. Heh. Be merciless! I dare you. I know what has to happen in the next chapter so that definitely makes things easier, I think.**

**Also, I know I haven't responded to reviews recently and I'm really sorry about that as well. Life just… gets in the way, as is its wont. I will try and get through my backlog of review replies by the end of the weekend as well.**

**Thank you to everyone and anyone who has supported me with my writing, and this fic in particular. Thank you for each favourite, each follow, even if you're too shy to review. It really means more to me than I can express in words, even if it does absolutely terrify me to think that people read what I wrote. Yeah. I'm one of **_**those **_**weirdos**_**…**_

**Thanks, also, to JJDracula, whose infinite patience with me is nothing short of saintly. I feel like she should be jumping the queue for beatification. I'll reach out to the new Pope (yeah, we've managed to go through a papal resignation for the first time in centuries and elect a Pope since I last updated this fic for the love of all that is holy, THAT is how long it's been) and see what I can do. She wrote some bits of the early part of this chapter, up until Ell's exit. I've since taken massive liberties with what she wrote and will have to once again beg for her forgiveness. Heh.**

**Anyway, once again, if you're reading this I thank you.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Percy had caught a glimpse of his face in the window of a cab that he'd hailed to take them to their destination, so he knew that there was blood on his face. He had made no move to clean it off; by the scared looks people had been giving him as he had stormed out of Starbucks and onto the street, he knew that it was intimidating.<p>

Well, good. The people Nico was mixed up with were dangerous and the scarier he looked the better. He had a serious message to send. Every time he thought about what they had done to Nico he found himself shaking with rage, balling both of his fists in a futile attempt to stay calm.

Nico had given the cab driver the address of the place and now they were stood in a seedy parking lot in a bad Brooklyn neighbourhood. They were looking at a dingy, squat building with blacked-out windows at the front. The parking lot beneath their feet was cracked and weeds were springing through the faded asphalt. The lines for the spaces were all but faded into oblivion and it was littered with cigarette butts and in one place spattered with a dark stain that Percy sincerely hoped was oil.

Across the street, an equally dingy building with a heavily-barred edifice announced 'Check's Cashed', 'Money Order's' (the superfluous apostrophes would have made Annabeth scream) and 'N.Y. Lotto'. Next to it was O'Dell's Grill, which looked like the kind of place you couldn't persuade a person to eat if they were an inch from starving to death. Even Percy, who regularly scarfed street meat in Manhattan of dubious origin, was repulsed by the aura of greasy grime O'Dell's seemed to exude.

An unlit neon sign above the door of the building they were standing in front of aimed for the thinnest veneer of respectability, deeming the place Mr Him's Gentlemen's Club, but that was blown all to Hades by further unlit neon signs on the outside of the blacked out windows either side of the door. One sign advertised 'Girls, Girls, Girls' and the other 'Exotic Dancing: from Him for Him'.

Percy heard the flick of a lighter and turned to see Nico lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. His skull lighter was wavering too much and he kept missing the end of the cigarette before it finally caught. He took a greedy draw on it and exhaled, his eyes closing with the pleasure of it.

"Where did you get those?" Percy demanded. "I thought you smoked all of yours?"

Nico shrugged. "The guy in the line in front of us at Starbucks had them in his jacket. I figured my need was greater than his."

"You _stole_ them?" Percy said accusingly.

"Oh please," Nico said, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I left his wallet behind, didn't I?"

Percy sighed and shook his head. "That's not the point," he said. "You still stole them and you're still smoking them despite being underage. They're _bad _for you."

Nico gave a derisory snort, smoke curling from his nostrils. "Thanks for the update. I didn't realise you'd become the Surgeon General in my absence. How's that working out for you?"

Percy was about to bite back a retort but he caught Nico looking at the side of Him's like it was about to attack him and he realised that Nico was putting on a front so that the fear he was obviously feeling didn't show through. He swallowed what he was about to say.

"You know what?" Percy said instead, throwing up his hands. "Smoke if you want. It's terrible for you and you'll probably suffer for it later but I'm not going to mom you to death about it. You should quit but right now we have bigger issues." He jerked his thumb at the building. "You know we don't have to do this, right? You can go back to the apartment. I can handle this myself."

Nico shook his head, his jaw set. "I have to do this. I need to remember what it was like, how bad it was. I just… need to do this, okay? And then maybe things can get better from here."

Percy didn't think that Nico looked like he was convincing even himself of that but gave a curt nod anyway. "Okay then, if that's what you want. Lead the way." He held out his hand and Nico took it, flicking his cigarette away with his other hand. Percy was shocked by the tightness of Nico's grip; it was as if Nico felt that Percy was his only connection to sanity and if he let go he'd lose himself.

That just made what he was about to do a lot easier. The people in this building had done this to Nico. They had to pay.

Nico opened the door and together they stepped through. Most of the lights were off and it took a few minutes for Percy's eyes to adjust to the gloom. The room was hung with cheap-looking red and gold lamé curtains and featured a bar against the back wall. Some awful music with a heavy bass line was playing through the club's sound system and there were coloured strobe lights whirling throughout the place. There was a mezzanine floor towards the back of the club above the bar which was in almost total darkness.

Around the room were numerous tables with leather armchairs grouped around them and booths with vinyl seats. There was a large, round centre stage with three poles on it, none of which were occupied, but the trapeze swinging above the stage in the space between the poles was. A woman in a rhinestone-studded pink bikini so implausibly small that it looked like it could only be a deranged experiment into the tensile strength of the fabric was twisting herself into impossible positions on the trapeze as it swung, serpentine limbs twisting around the bar and the ropes supporting it. She dropped suddenly to dangle from one knee and Percy's heart leapt into his mouth; he thought she'd been about to fall.

He barely had time to take this in, however, when Nico was shoved against the wall by a girl.  
>She looked about the same age as him, maybe a bit older but definitely no more than eighteen. She was wearing scuffed heels of a ludicrous height and a deep red lace negligee with an asymmetrical hem split dangerously high up one thigh. Over this she was wearing a black satin robe which was frayed around the edges.<p>

The robe had been billowing behind her as she made her way across the club, the trotting steps she was making in the heels sending certain parts of her anatomy jiggling in a way that made Percy immediately feel guilty for looking. Thinking of Annabeth he had averted his eyes until she was on top of Nico, when the new proximity allowed him to see that she was wearing heavy makeup and her hair seemed to consist mostly of wiry dark extensions.

"Look who's back," she purred seductively. "It's been a while. I thought you'd gone off me." She smiled and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Nico's hair, her hand deliberately lingering on his cheek.

Percy saw that Nico was deliberately avoiding his gaze. His mouth was set in a thin line and he looked panicked, like a cornered animal. His throat was working nervously and even in the dim light Percy could see a flush of embarrassment creeping up Nico's neck and onto his face.

"Who's your friend?" the girl asked, stepping back to survey Percy. She looked him up and down and her smile widened. "He's cute."

"My, my cousin. Percy," Nico managed to stutter out, having to clear his throat many times so that he could find his voice.

"I see the resemblance," the girl said, her mouth splitting into a hungry smile. She coiled herself closer to Nico and started whispering, quietly enough to sound alluring but loud enough for Percy to hear her. "Y'know... I think I have a few hits if you wanna take this upstairs? He's welcome to join us. It's probably best you don't stick around down here. Derek's still looking for you for the money you owe him and he is _pissed _you didn't turn up to work it off. It makes him look bad in front of Mr Him. He went out on a drop and could be back any minute."

She leaned forwards and kissed Nico passionately but stopped when he didn't kiss her back. Percy was too busy trying to work out Nico's history with this girl and take in his surroundings to realise that he probably should have stopped watching a while ago. He did, however, see Nico stiffen suddenly and pull away from her, stepping away from the wall and forcing her backwards. She was smiling again, biting her lower lip and bobbing up and down on her heels.

Nico had his eyes screwed closed and his jaw was clenched. He looked like he was being torn in two and about to cry, and then suddenly let out an anguished cry and spat a pill into his open palm. The girl had obviously slipped it to him when she had kissed him.

Nico had gone as white as Percy had ever seen him and was staring at the pill in his hand, trembling as if holding it aloft were costing him every ounce of strength he had. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth and his face was contorted with conflict.

"What's wrong Nicky?" the girl asked, moving forwards again to kiss his jaw and work her way across his neck.

"I'm clean," Nico said flatly, shrugging her off.

Percy wanted to clap and celebrate at the statement but then he saw Nico's fingers spasm, as if he were going to close them around the rapidly-dissolving pill in his hand, so he reached forward and knocked it to the ground. He then ground it into sludge under his heel.

The girl scoffed. "You're cute but boring," she said to Percy, rolling her fake-lashed eyes heavily. "And as for you," she said, turning back to Nico, "this isn't the first time I've heard that one, honey." She smiled at him predatorily. "You'll be back. You always are. Isn't that why you're here? Derek will be back soon if you're looking for something specific. I'm sure you two can smooth things out. But Him is up in his office if you want to go direct."

Again she moved forwards into Nico's personal space, trailing her fingers over his chest, but Nico frowned and pushed her away with some force, sending her staggering and almost toppling over.

The girl looked offended and snatched her robe closed, viciously tugging on the belt to tie it in a double knot. "What happened to you?" she spat. "You used to be _fun_."

"I—" Nico started

"Screw you, asshole!" she yelled, storming away to the back of the club and disappearing into a room, slamming the door behind her. "Get back to me when you know how to have a good time again."

Percy blinked in shock at the departure. The entire time the dancer on the trapeze hadn't stopped, swooping above them all with a grace that seemed to defy nature and the laws of physics. It was surreal.

"Percy…" Nico started, mumbling at the floor and still not looking at his cousin. "I'm s—"

"No apologies," Percy said. "Stop apologising, Nico. Seriously. I should have figured out that you weren't exactly likely to have spent all this time in a monastery. You have a past. It's no big deal." He could see his cousin was embarrassed... _ashamed,_ even.

Nico sighed, shaking his head. "Still, Ell's kind of… a lot to handle. She always has been. Spoiled rich white girl gone bad. She's used to getting her own way and never having to deal with the consequences. She doesn't believe in anything else apart from having a good time."

"What the hell is she doing here, then?" Percy asked, eyes roving over the place disdainfully. "She thinks this is a good time?"

"It's money," Nico said, shrugging with only one shoulder. "She's got to pay the rent. And as you may have realised, this little den of iniquity is kind of a hotspot for people that use drugs. She can get what she needs here."

Percy looked around at the club; it just looked so _depressing_. He dreaded to think what it actually looked like with the lights on; the illumination of the strobe lights was enough thank you very much. "Do you… do you spend a lot of time here?"

Nico shook his head vehemently. "Gods no. No, no, no. The clientele here… yeah. You don't even want to know what goes on upstairs and in the back rooms. I avoid this place as much as fucking possible, believe me. I hate it. But that guy in the alley, this is where he likes to hang out, for obvious reasons, and he's my go-to guy. So sometimes I have to come here. Derek is… I don't know, like an employee, I guess, of the guy that owns this place. Mr Him. Strippers, booze, drugs, porn… yeah. You name the pie, he's probably got a finger in it, even if only indirectly. Sometimes, if I used to be desperate and I couldn't think straight enough or hold it together long enough to lift someone's wallet to pay Derek without getting caught I'd trade them shifts in this place for… you know. Pills. Then I'd have to be here. That's how I got to know Ell. But otherwise you wouldn't catch me dead here."

"So this Mr Him… He's the brains of this whole operation?" Percy asked. "Does he have power over Derek?"

"Definitely," Nico said darkly. "You wouldn't believe who he has power over, Percy. Derek he probably intimidates but the people he can't scare into doing what he wants he blackmails instead. Rumour has it he has whole hard drives full of pictures and videos of people caught in freaky acts of lust. Everyone from meter maids to politicians and high-ranking cops. The health inspector came once to shut the place down because of the roaches and ended up somehow in a six-way orgy in one of the rooms upstairs with a camera hidden in the mirrored ceiling. The place got top marks after that. Strange, huh?"

"Oh good," Percy said, tilting his head to one side so that it gave an audible pop. "If he weren't an asshole then I'd feel bad about what he's got coming to him. Lead the way."

Nico's face dropped and his mouth fell open. "What?! Percy, no. Seriously, _no. _You have no idea what he is capable of. You are not putting yourself on his radar just because of me."

Percy shrugged. "What do you think we're here for? And besides, if Derek is as close to him as you say then I'm probably already on his radar. As soon as Derek is done being jet-washed and makes his way back here, I'll probably have made The List anyway. But who cares? How scary can he be after Kronos? After _Gaea? _And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to, you know, trip and fall into a six-way orgy upstairs so he can't collect any dirt on me, either. He's got nothing, Nico. You don't have to be scared of him anymore. I am going to make sure of that."

Nico looked as if he might cry. His eyes kept flicking to the back of the club and Percy and he was tapping a nervous, staccato beat on his thigh. Percy could tell that Nico was really torn, torn between _wanting _Percy to go in and make one of his biggest problems simply vanish and the guilt of wanting that so badly that he would put Percy in danger for it.

"Nico, look," Percy said. "I know you want this, to be free of everything. That's why you came to see me. That's why you spat out that pill that Ell gave you. Let me do that for you. Let me cut the last of the ties to this dump. To this entire life. I _want _to do this. Truth be told, no monsters have tossed my ass through a support beam for a couple of months now. I'm ready for some action."

"Riptide isn't going to do much against him, Percy," Nico said, shaking his head. "It was no good against Derek and it's not going to be any use against Him either. You could get hurt."

Percy grinned. "Nico, Nico, Nico. Come on now. You really think that Riptide is all I've got up my sleeves? I thought you knew me better than that."

Nico studied Percy apprehensively for a moment and then looked to the floor, using the fact that his hair had slid forwards to hide his face. "I know I keep saying it, but thank you," he mumbled. "I don't know what I did to deserve this. You."

"Hey, Nico?" Percy asked. "It's nothing. This is you we're talking about. After what you went through for all of us, for the _world_? This is nothing. So come on. You _shall _go to the ball."

Nico's head snapped up. "Oh you did _not_ just call me Cinderella," he bit out.

Percy held up his hands. "Whatever gets you out of moping mode," he said with a shrug. "What can I say? It's an art. A difficult one, but..."

Nico sighed and shoved his hair back slowly. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Let's do this."

Glancing up at the woman practising on the trapeze as he passed by her, Percy followed Nico to the back of the club where some stairs roped off with a velvet rope curved upwards to the mezzanine floor. Riptide flashed and the rope was cut in two.

"It has a hook," Nico said dryly, pointing at it.

"Where's the fun in that?" Percy asked. "Besides, it looked kind of… _crusty. _I didn't want to touch it."

Nico rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. "Come on," he said, beginning to climb the stairs. "Let's take you to see the wizard."

Percy fell in step next to him as they climbed and quirked an eyebrow at him. "What, so I'm Dorothy now?"

Nico grinned. "Well apparently I'm Cinderella, so in your case if the sparkly red shoes fit…"

"These are plain red Converse," Percy said. "Just plain. No sparkles in sight."

"Only until I can get my hands on a hot glue gun," Nico said brightly, but the devillish smile those words had brought to his face slid off as he reached the top of the stairs. The mezzanine floor was almost totally dark; Percy could barely make out the lumps of low furniture. There was strip of light coming from underneath the only door. It was what had caught Nico's attention; Percy heard his cousin gulp.

"Come on," Percy said. "You don't have to be scared of this guy anymore. He's not going to set Derek on you again. No more broken fingers, no more looking over your shoulder. By the time I'm done, you'll be free of all of this crap. I promise."

Nico nodded, blowing a slow breath out through his mouth that betrayed how hard he was working to try and stay calm. "Okay," he said. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Percy walked over to the door. "Now, do you want to knock and let him know we're here or shall I?"

Nico opened his mouth to reply but didn't get any further as Percy let out a war cry and drove a front kick into the door next to the doorknob. The wood splintered around the lock but the noise was lost in the pounding music of the club. The door swung inwards violently, bouncing on something that stood behind it.

"Knock knock," Percy said amiably, stepping over the threshold. "Hope you don't mind me dropping in like this, but we have some business to discuss."

The office evidently featured some kind of way of controlling the music that was playing downstairs because it cut out suddenly. There were some faint cries of annoyance from downstairs about it, but that was mostly drowned out by a chorus of gasps and moans coming from inside the office.

In front of Percy was a desk with a high-backed leather chair behind it. The occupant of the chair was spun away from the desk with his back to them, watching a bank of flat screen monitors which took up the entire wall in a four by four grid. Each of the sixteen monitors showed a variety of panting and groaning and sweating people with limbs intertwined in ways that Percy hadn't even known were possible with the human anatomy. All races, sexes and sexualities were represented; one screen was showing a scene shot in a stable with live horses in the background and Percy sincerely hoped that that wasn't going to go the way his apparently sick mind was telling him it might.

Some screens were clearly professionally shot porn, with lighting and makeup and different camera angles, while on other screens the scenes were much darker and shot from just one viewpoint, perhaps some of the hidden camera work which Nico had filled him in about.

Behind the door was a row of filing cabinets; the door had bounced off the open bottom drawer of the one next to the door. The drawer was labelled _Formicophilia-Gerontophilia_ was stuffed to overflowing with top shelf magazines. Some of the magazines that were spilling out had women splashed across the front who should have been knitting, baking cookies and taking their teeth out at night instead of posing in PVC bustiers with cat-o'-nine-tails. One well-thumbed titled had got jammed in the drawer mechanism and featured a man who seemed to be wearing a mass of bees as underwear. Percy's felt his stomach turn and, despite the bravado of his entrance, a blush creeping up his face.

It wasn't that he was a prude — at least, he _hoped _not — or that he was ashamed of sex, whichever form it came in, but there was something embarrassing about bursting in on a guy watching _sixteen _porn videos simultaneously. Plus the fact that whoever was in the chair still hadn't turned around so Percy had the nasty feeling that he had just interrupted some, uh, _private time. _And judging by this set up, this guy liked his private time a little too much. Still, he ploughed on because, well, he'd got this far and Nico's hovering in the doorway looking scared half to death gave him a renewed sense of anger. This was the guy who had ordered Nico to be terrorised, albeit in a roundabout way, who had sat idly back and supplied who knew how many people with drugs, Nico included. This guy deserved no better.

"Well then. Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" said the man in the chair. "I'm always open to business offers. You don't have to be so loud about making them."

"Hey, it's Him, right?" Percy demanded, giving the desk a kick. An orange pill bottle fell over, spilling little diamond-shaped blue pills onto the desktop. Percy got enough spam email that he didn't need to be a pharmacist to work out what they were.

"Who wants to know?" He sounded bored. "I'm starting to think you have no business here, so whoever you are I hope you've got deep pockets because fixing my door won't come cheap."

"I think that's the least of your problems," Percy said. His grin was wide and predatory as he leaned forwards, bracing his arms on the desk. "How about you turn off your little wall of voyeurism and we have a little _chat_?"

The screens muted but didn't turn off. Slowly, the chair began to turn revealing a man with his fingers steepled and one ankle resting on the opposite knee. Percy noticed with a silent prayer of thanks that his pants were both buttoned and zippered.

He was a short man with dark, curly hair that fell to the nape of his neck and was held off his forehead by a colourful headband. His skin was taut and too shiny; the dimples in his face looked like they'd been stapled in with a nail gun and the cleft in his chin looked like it was the result of a chisel. His cheekbones were super-enhanced also.

Despite the fact that he was pushing forty from the wrong side, his forehead was eerily smooth; neither it nor the skin around his watery blue eyes budged a millimetre when he spoke. In his youth he might have been cherubic-looking — handsome, even — but that had probably been a good thirty years ago and the second things had started to go south with age he had clearly had things pinned so far to the north a compass needle would have just spin in dizzy confusion, unable to point it out.

His short height had not prevented him from building significant muscle; if he supplied Derek with the steroids he was clearly juicing on it was clear that Him had been maybe partaking in the product, although not to the same extremes as Derek. He was stocky and even beneath his expensive suit Percy could see pectorals and biceps ripple despite his lack of motion, the muscles on his torso able to move more than the ones on his face. However, they looked more natural than the ones on Derek's hulking frame. The leopard print shirt beneath his suit was open three buttons from the neck, exposing a great deal of waxed, tanned chest.

"Chat away," Him said affably, spreading his arms. He languidly propped his shiny, expensive-looking loafers on the desk and tilted backwards on the desk chair. "I have a feeling this could get amusing." He smiled but between the Botox and the flash of untamed, animal nature Percy caught behind Him's eyes the smile never travelled past his lips. It was a creepy effect.

"I'm Nico's cousin, Percy," Percy said shortly, folding his arms across his chest. He made sure to let a flash of steel cross his own vision as he stared Him down. "And you and me, we've got some major issues. Know anything about a broken finger, to start with?"

Him cocked his head to one side, his lip curling into a faint sneer. "Oh we have _major issues _do we?" he breathed, slowly kicking his feet off the desk. "And why would that be, Percy Jackson? Perhaps you're here to discuss how Nico apparently can't turn up for work on time when he's specifically been told that there's no one here who would hear any evil or see any evil if he, say, _fell down _repeatedly in the alley next to the building? Or maybe you're here to discuss how I'm out of pocket because that little brat you call a cousin is a _dead_beat of epic proportions? I am here trying to run an honest business, that is my only crime. I have one of the biggest adult entertainment empires in the _hemisphere._ Hugh Hefner just _wishes _he had my circulation figures, the amateur. I shouldn't have to put up with people like your cousin pulling this kind of crap on me."

Percy felt rage boil up inside him and he clenched his fists, one in the air and one around Riptide in pen form in his pocket. Running an honest business was this guy's onlycrime? From what Nico had said Him was involved in extortion, drugs and who knew what else. Honest didn't even begin to cover it. He wished he could uncap his sword and show Him who was boss, but— _wait_.

"How did you know my last name?" Percy asked suddenly, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "I said my name was Percy, not Percy Jackson. We've never met. So who are you, and how do you know me?"

Him threw his head back and laughed, and again Percy saw something animalistic, not human, ripple behind the otherwise watery eyes. It was a flash of a kind of madness Percy hadn't seen for the longest time, not since he'd last pissed off Mr D, mixed with a hunger that made him shiver despite himself.

"Shit," Nico hissed. "Percy, I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I just thought he was mortal. I didn't know he'd be from our world. I guess… with my powers gone I couldn't sense it as easily."

Percy licked his lips, barely acknowledging Nico with a flick of his eyes to the corner where Nico was standing but stepping slightly in front of his cousin all the same. He couldn't afford to take his eyes off Him, especially now that Him apparently knew who (and what) they were.

"Have you not figured it out yet, Percy Jackson?" Him said. "You're clearly getting slow in your old age. Others have told me great things about you. Perhaps they're no longer true."

Percy dug Riptide out of his pocket and uncapped it. "Try me," he said evenly. "I think most people are surprised. You know who I am so I think it's your turn to share."

"Does this help?" Him asked. The air in front of him shimmered hot pink like heat rising from a road in the baking sunshine. Its vibrancy caused both Percy and Nico to shield their eyes as it seared into every corner of the office. When it faded, Him was standing behind his desk naked apart from the tiniest loincloth, which left far too little to the imagination. Across his back was slung a quiver of arrows with fletching made out of pink and red feathers and he was holding a bow loosely at his side.

Oh, yeah. And the _wings. _

Him now had wings with feathers a mixture of black and the deep red of drying blood. He flexed them and they spanned the entire office, knocking over a standard lamp in the corner behind the desk. It toppled over and the bulb shattered in a spray of sparks, plunging the already dimly-lit room into almost total darkness. Only the lamp on the desk and the flickering, inconsistent light of the screens remained.

Percy's eyes widened and he quailed — _manfully, _dammit — at the shadow blossoming over the monitors behind Him, thrown by the desk lamp. He could deal with gods and monsters existing; he could deal with a heavenly city moored above the Empire State Building just fine. He could deal with a world where he could breathe underwater and talk to horses without any fear but a world where things that looked _very_ similar to avenging angels about to smite him from the face of the planet lived? That he was having a little trouble with.

Then Him tucked his wings behind him and casually plucked an arrow from his quiver, fingering the tip. It was made with a gleaming ruby in a heart cut that was swallowing the dim light in the office and belching out pulses of crimson light in time with the beat of a human heart. On each beat, sparks dribbled from the arrow head like blood from a severed aorta.

It was Nico that put it together first. Well, sort of.

"You're Cupid," Nico said, blinking at Him.

Him's face turned ugly immediately. All of his teeth were bared in a snarl that would have sent a puma scurrying away with its tail between its legs and a pulsing vein had broken through his frozen forehead. His wings unfurled again, the force enough the shatter the glass in the front of a painting hanging on one wall. The painting slid to the floor and the frame cracked, spewing glass shards across the stained carpet.

Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed, "Ignorant child! Cupid is the Roman aspect of my brother, Eros. I am _not_ him. He was always our mother's favourite, though. He's the one that everyone remembers. Statues upon statues, his face was on amphorae from Thrace to Sparta. Everyone _loved _Eros. Ovid wrote a whole story on him and my ridiculous drip of a sister-in-law, Psyche. Lord Zeus above if whining were an Olympic sport that one would win hands down. 'Oh, these quests are so hard; well I guess I'll just have to kill myself'. Honestly. What kind of attitude is that? She's got a face like a wet weekend as well. And she acts like my mother's the mother-in-law from Hades, just because she took her away from my brother and set her a few tiny impossible tasks that may or may not have been designed to end in her grisly demise to prove herself. So petty."

Percy and Nico exchanged sideways glances; Percy flicked his head back towards the door as Him was distracted with his rant. Nico nodded, but before he had even taken half a step Him had notched an arrow so fast his arms were nothing but a blur. He was aiming squarely at Nico's chest.

"Not so fast," Him said. "I'm not done with you."

"He's unarmed," Percy said savagely, intervening between Nico and Him's arrow. "If you want to take your family issues out on someone, take them out on someone your own size. Or better yet get a godsbedamned shrink because it sounds like you, my friend, have Issues. Capital I."

Him's nostrils flared in anger but then he lowered his bow. "You don't even know who I am, do you?"

Percy hesitated. Annabeth had provided him with a colour-coded Olympus family tree once but it was so damn complicated, with far too many sibling/spouse lines crossed and marriage vows broken and children sired out of wedlock with other gods, or with mortals who were then eventually raised up to the heavens, that Percy hadn't been able to get his head around the complexities of it all, especially when it came to the more minor gods and goddesses.

He knew that was bad, especially after what had happened through poor recognition of minor gods and goddesses, but his brain wasn't Annabeth's. It didn't have infinite room for this stuff like hers did. He knew that Eros was the son of Aphrodite, and the fact that Him had said that he had brothers was ringing some kind of bell, but it was far away and in the distance.

"One of the Erotes," Nico said quietly. "Obviously not Eros so judging by the porn and the strippers, I'd say Himeros. I should have seen it from the start."

"And here was me thinking there was nothing left between your ears after those little benders of yours," Himeros said approvingly. "Very good. And I am the god of?"

"Uncontrollable, sexual desire. Lustful urges. Unrequited love," Nico said quietly. "You're all about creating powerful sexual desires and urges, unbridled lust, and never having it turn into anything. You're what's behind every man who sits out there when this place is open with a fistful of ones. The headband is to keep the sweat out of your face because you fire arrows off in an uncontrolled frenzy."

Himeros smiled, lowering his bow further. "Very good, Nico," he said softly. "It's been a long time since anyone has remembered me so well over Eros."

"Erotes?" Percy asked. "Himeros? Where are you getting this—" He cut himself short and rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: this is Mythomagic, isn't it? _Seriously_? I thought you told me that was just for kids. I can't believe that's still rattling around inside your skull."

Nico blanched, swallowing convulsively. "Yeah, I used to go through all the characters and their stats when… when I was Gaea's _guest," _he said quietly, almost choking on the irony of the last word. "It was one of the only ways I could keep it together."

"Shit," Percy said. "Nico, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"You didn't know," Nico said, with a shaky shrug. "No biggie. I'm not there anymore. I'm here."

"So now you know who I am… are you afraid of me?" Himeros asked, raising his bow again. "Because you should be."

"Himeros had a lot of attack power," Nico said. "His attacks would be sustained over several rounds and could cause people to self-injure in a frenzied state."

Nico, who couldn't remember to tie his shoes half the time and had the attention span of a gnat, had apparently swallowed the Mythomagic rule book, Percy noted. Although after last time he'd mentioned it he wasn't about to say so again. It was amusing, in a way, if it weren't for the horrific way it had been burned onto his memory. Then again, he would've had to have had a working knowledge of it before he was kidnapped for it to be in his head to cling to so…

"I like that," Himeros said, nodding approvingly. "It fits. You know, I'm the only one of the Erotes that matters anymore in America. My youngest brother, Pothos, he just mopes around the entire time. He's been going through puppy love and crushes and teenage angst for _millennia _now. Totally impotent. Can't do a thing but create yearning. Who. _Cares?_ And between them, my brothers Eros and Anteros have just become the gods of Katherine Heigl and Sandra Bullock movies. _Requited _love? Happy relationships? Sexual satiation? Pass me the paint, I'm gonna watch it dry."

"And what you offer is so much better?" Percy demanded, thinking of what he had with Annabeth. That was requited love, a relationship that had achieved symbiosis despite the odds. Who was this glorified turkey to crap all over this?

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword and he growled low. Not only was he pissed at this guy for what he had done to Nico, but now he was pissed for the attitude he had about the entire _world. _He thought he was the only type of desire the mattered? The type that guts someone totally, wrenches their heart from their chest and grinds it to a smear? Or worse, the type of savage lust that burned deep in some people in a place that gave birth to raping and pillaging? Well, Percy had news for him.

"He's right," Nico said hollowly, slumping back against the wall. His eyes flicked to the busted door and Percy wondered if he was thinking about Ell again. "Think about it, Percy. I know what you and Annabeth have is great and I know that a lot of other people have it to, but… look around you. In a world of porn you can stream at the click of a button, in a world of strip clubs, and prostitutes, in a world where that fucking octogenarian in the filing cabinet can pose in fishnets and a riding crop and nothing else and _someone will buy the magazine_… Yeah. This is what the world has become. Full of _Playboy _and _Playgirl _and _Maxim_ and _FHM_."

"No," Percy said fiercely, shaking his head. He couldn't let this be true. It was ridiculous to think that Himeros had so much power because society let his particular brand of love in. It didn't make _sense. _He couldn't let that be reality."And if he _is _that powerful, then what is a god like that doing in a dump like this? This place probably has cockroaches big enough to eat Manhattan rats. It's in a crappy neighbourhood, the whole club is cheap and nasty. And yet he's the most powerful god of desire? I don't think so."

"This club looks like this and it is where it is because that's what people expect," Himeros said. "You think the average clientele of a place like this wants to come to Park Avenue to get what they need, or, Hades, anywhere where all the streetlights work? I've got some classier joints, sure, but I've also got some places a lot worse than this, too. Don't judge me by what you see here."

"Stop being so noble. Look, we live in a city where hot models get mostly naked on giant billboards in Times Square to sell underwear," Nico said, and Percy was surprised by the causticity of the words. Nico was talking to him as if the roles had been completely reversed, as if Percy were the younger, lost one and Nico was the wise, all-knowing denizen of the world.

"What about infomercials?" Nico continued. "They're full of crazy ass inventions that look like torture devices to shock and tone and tauten all your muscles for a sexier you. People want to be desired, Percy and you know what? They don't always want it to be requited. There's this salon in Manhattan that charges more than I spend on food in a _year _for a haircut. And you know why people are paying through the nose? Because they want people to look at them on the subway and think, 'Wow, they're hot'. It makes them feel good about themselves. Why do you think plastic surgery is such big business? You've gotta bet it's something to do with the fact that he has a face like a Ken doll."

Himeros was grinning widely now. "Oh, Nico. Bravo. I never knew you were so astute. So cynical. And so right, of course. I love it. People _are _obsessed with the way they look, of how attractive they are to others. Not all humans, unfortunately, but a lot more than would admit to it. And if they're not obsessed with how they look then it's how someone else looks. My dominion is in every crazed fan obsessed with their favourite celebrity who scream and wave banners at their idols as they lap up the attention on a red carpet. Every neighbour who times running to the mailbox so he can catch a glimpse of a woman who doesn't even know he exists. You know who thought about draping young, half-naked things across throughout Abercrombie & Fitch to sell clothes? That would be me."

Percy glanced at Nico and saw him staring impassively at Himeros, accepting that that was the case. It hurt him to see it, but then Nico had never been a great believer in the innate goodness of the human race. It was probably by far easier for Nico to believe that Himeros was saying than it was for Percy to believe it, and that made Percy sad. Maybe he was too noble, but he _liked _it. He didn't want to see the world like Nico and Himeros, spend his life jaded and only seeing the worst in people. And Himeros still wasn't done.

"I am the embodiment of every platinum blonde with the stage name Amber or Candi with an I who had gyrated on one of my poles," he said. "I am Cerise swinging from that trapeze downstairs and all of my customers who come and watch them and women — and men — like them in clubs I own across the country. I am every adult actor and actress and anyone who has invited them across their screen and lusted for them and their actions.

"My brother Anteros punishes those who spurn the advances of others. After his stupid wedding — which he wasn't even considerate enough to _register _for because it was hush-hush so he didn't upset mommy and then apparently it's _my_ fault I didn't get them a gift — my brother Eros promotes what he calls _monogamy _and _healthy relationships_," he said, punctuating those terms with sneers and sarcastic air quotes. "Human beings can be such tiresome creatures but the ideals of love my brothers represent go against your basic animal natures. Why deny yourself what you want, what you feel? What _burns_ deep within you?"

"Not in all of us," Percy said through gritted teeth.

Himeros smiled. "Oh really?" he said. "Because I seem to remember an incident not that long ago when you, Perseus Jackson, apparently did not yet have a stick up your ass."

Percy blinked and looked blank. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said truthfully. "What do you mean?"

"You were in a car," Himeros said. "On a beach. With the future Oracle of Delphi."

Percy's eyes widened. "Oh," he said quietly.

"Oh indeed," Himeros said, barely able to contain a cackle of glee. "She most definitely lusted after you, Percy Jackson. She had the most _delicious_ thoughts about you that were definitely not at all appropriate for an Oracle."

"You and Rachel?" Nico asked, incredulity strangling his voice. "You and _Rachel_? When?"

"I was _fifteen_," Percy said defensively. "It was nothing. Just a kiss. We'd just spent an afternoon learning to drive Paul's car and I was about to go on a suicide mission. I wasn't thinking. _She _wasn't thinking. It was…"

"Lust?" Himeros said pointedly. "I tried to give you one last great fling before my brother Eros muscled in and you got sappy with that daughter of Athena but, alas…" He calmly pulled another arrow from his quiver and notched it alongside the first in his bow, drawing back the string before Percy could even blink. "It's time you had a little reminder, don't you think?"

Himeros was fast but Percy just about managed to launch himself at Nico as Himeros unleashed the two arrows. He snagged the front of his cousin's shirt with one hand, yanking him down towards the floor and slashed with Riptide with his other hand, slicing one of the arrows clean in two. It fell in half to the stained carpet.

He wasn't fast enough to catch the other one. They hit the floor, Percy shielding Nico, and Percy immediately spasmed through a wave of agony rolling out from his solar plexus. He yelled in pain, his hand closing on the shaft of an arrow embedded in his stomach.


	9. Chapter 9

**To all of you who haven't got my review replies from the previous chapter yet... I'm sorry and I'm working on catching up. But also for general information, for the people I haven't replied to and those who maybe didn't review the last chapter, I want to apologise. I know I said I was confident I could have this chapter up by Easter Monday, taking advantage of the four day weekend. However, on the Sunday night I hit a massive pothole in my car and did several hundred pounds worth of damage. I needed a new tyre and the suspension was damaged. Having spent my Easter Monday in a mechanic's office reading a four-year-old car magazine for several hours, and being billed a hideous amount for the privilege, I was not in a writing mood to say the least. So I'm sorry this never materialised when I said it would.**

**HOWEVER, it is here now! YAY. I'm getting better at this updating thing. I'm starting to do it in the same month now. Quelle horreur. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this so far and to everyone who is maybe too shy to review but has followed and favourited me all the same. Your support means the world to me, it really does. More than I can possibly express.**

**To the anonymous UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE reviewer: I asked for bullying and I got it. And, to a certain extent, it worked as we're here now. Even if that is slightly later than planned.**

**And thanks, as always, to the lovely and talented and, most importantly, **_**patient**_** JJDracula, who improbably puts up with me and my artistic temperament over and over and over. **

**Everyone, thank you. And enjoy the chapter.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Nico's breath burst from his body as he hit the floor unexpectedly, and for a few desperate moments he could do nothing but gasp as his lungs tried desperately to re-inflate. Then he heard Percy groaning and he immediately sat up, rolling his cousin towards him and seeing the arrow imbedded in his stomach.<p>

Nico felt the blood drain from his face at the sight of it and then suddenly it was replaced by a red mist descending. He snarled and snatched Riptide from Percy's limp fingers, jumping to his feet and launching himself across the room at Himeros. The blade felt wrong in his hand somehow, the balance off, and the weapon was much lighter in his grip than the Stygian iron he was used to wielding.

Still, it was pointy and he knew which end to stick in people to do damage.

Himeros had notched a new arrow and fired it, but Nico swatted it out of the way with the flat of Riptide's blade and it stuck, vibrating, in the doorframe having whistled over Nico's left shoulder. Himeros reached back for another arrow but Nico was already on top of him, slashing a gash from the god's shoulder to navel and slicing clean through the strap of Himeros's quiver. The quiver fell to the floor with a heavy thud, arrows spewing from the top and bursting out all around the office.

Golden ichor was oozing from the wound Nico had made and Nico grinned savagely as Himeros pressed a hand to it, his fingers coming back dripping with divine blood. He took an uncertain step backwards and Nico pressed forwards, still struggling with his grip on Riptide but trying not to show it.

"This is between you and me," Nico growled. "Percy had nothing to with this." He glanced back at Percy, guilt contorting in his chest at the arrow still protruding from his cousin's stomach. Percy didn't deserve this; he shouldn't even have been here trying to fix problems all of Nico's making. And now he'd been shot throwing himself in front of Nico. Just how many bullets (_arrows_, then) was Percy going to be expected to take for him? The guilt had been shaken into a heady cocktail with a generous dash of anger directed at Himeros and both emotions swirled within him, buzzing in his ears.

Himeros was soon pressed back against his bank of monitors as Nico slipped around the desk and swung Riptide in a lazy circle, trying to make it look like he had better control of the sword than he felt that he actually did. Still, it seemed to be working and Himeros at least had the decency to look slightly scared of him, flattened back by the weight of the onslaught. Nico only felt his grin widen at this, his face aching from the unusual activity. It had been a long time since someone had actually been scared of him instead of the other way round.

"Drop the bow," Nico hissed at Himeros, closing the last few steps between them and pressing the point of Riptide to Himeros's throat. Himeros made no move to comply and Nico ground his teeth. "I said _drop it_. You made the wrong move picking on Percy. I will take whatever crap you throw at me. I probably deserve it. But he doesn't. So drop your bow or things might just get ugly."

Himeros let his bow fall to the floor. Nico trapped the upper limb under his foot and kicked violently backwards at the lower limb a few times with his other heel. The bow bent to the point of breaking, snapping in a dazzling burst of golden light and melting into the carpet.

"Nico... don't," Percy said suddenly and Nico blinked, catching Himeros's face splitting into a rictus in the corner of his eye as he turned to face Percy.

The arrow had gone from Percy's stomach with no sign of ever having been there and he had climbed to his feet, although he was still leaning against the wall. His eyes were glazed and he was panting heavily; there was sweat beading on his forehead and he had uttered a barely audible, guttural moan after his words.

"Percy…?" Nico said warily, concern spiking at Percy's unusual demeanour. He licked his lips nervously; having to split his attention between Himeros and Percy was frightening him. He was out of practise and although Himeros was reeling from Nico's first move Nico knew that he'd got lucky. With a borrowed, unfamiliar sword and no powers he was under no illusions that he could win against a god, even a minor one like Himeros. The best he could hope for was distracting Himeros long enough to get them both out of this dump.

"I'm good, Nico," Percy said, pushing himself off the wall and standing up. "In fact… I'm better than I think I've ever been."

"Don't move," Nico snapped over his shoulder at Himeros, keeping Riptide firmly in place before turning his head back to Percy. "You got shot," he said to his cousin. "That… usually leaves someone the opposite of good."

There was a swooping rush and then suddenly a blur of feathers from Himeros as the god used his wings to push himself forwards, batting Riptide aside with one of them. It cost him a few shredded feathers but knocked the sword from Nico's grasp, sending it tumbling end over end across the office. It turned back into a pen before hitting the wall and disappearing behind one of Himeros's filing cabinets of depravity (

_Somnophilia-Trichophilia _Nico's ADHD noticed, as if _that _was something that was important or mattered right now).

"Not so powerful now without a sword, are you, Nico?" Himeros asked smugly, smirking. "You've got less than nothing, kiddo. Believe me, I know that. All this time I've had a child of the Big Three in my pocket, scrambling along after me and my people for any little breadcrumbs we felt like throwing you like a pathetic lost duckling. Or a puppy — one that kept coming back from more no matter how many times we kicked you. You were one of my favourite little playthings, Nico. So lost and _broken. _You know what one of my favourite moments was? When I shot Ell with one of my arrows and sent her on after you — and it was an arrow, of course, because the Ells of the world, even as low as they are, don't end up with no-hopers like you — and you thought that you'd found happiness. And then you found Ell with someone else and started to think that any happiness you ever felt would end in pain. That was just… _delicious._"

"_Why_?" Nico asked, his voice shaking and barely a whisper.

Himeros's words had been placing iron bands around his heart and they were rapidly tightening. How could he have been so blind? So _stupid_? If he couldn't spot a god, and one that was messing with him at that, then maybe his father was right. He _was_ a disgrace to the Underworld.

"Why screw with me like that?" Nico continued. He had to know. "What had I ever done to you?" He realised he'd been backing up this entire time and he bumped against the edge of Himeros's desk.

"Nothing," Himeros said simply. "Nothing at all, at least not personally. You fell into my lap accidentally through Derek. Mortal pharmaceuticals are a little side hobby of mine. They lower inhibitions, can help promote the flow of desire… You just happened to get tangled up in that like a fly in my cobweb, your vision blurred by your high-profile expulsion from the Underworld and your quest to block out your old life."

"So_ why_?" Nico said again, his voice cracking. Himeros had spent all this time drawing him in, keeping him hooked and always coming back for more. He had shown Nico a glimmer of happiness with Ell and then torn it to shreds in front of his face, making him lose hope that he could ever truly be happy and that had perhaps been what had hurt most of all.

Nothing hurt worse than dreams crushed, the extinguishing of all hope. Himeros had left him resigned to the fact that he would never ever be happy, that he would never ever be free, free from Derek, free from his addiction. And there was no pain greater than staring into the yawning maw of despair that came from knowing that he could never find what he thought was love without having it screwed up somehow, living with the weight of the knowledge that maybe you were too broken to love and be loved in return, to deserve some reciprocal feeling from another human being. And Himeros had done that to him just _because_?

"Why?" Himeros echoed, blinking in shock. Then he threw his head back and roared with laughter. "What do you mean _why, _godling? I am the one who sent the great god Pan chasing after the nymph Syrinx. She fled to the edge of a river and begged the river nymphs for help and they transformed into hollow reeds to protect the vow of chastity she made as a follower of Artemis. Pan cut those reeds down and made the first set of panpipes; because of me, Syrinx's haunting moans are still heard today. I am the one who sent the father of your dear cousin, Percy Jackson, chasing after his sister Demeter. When she changed herself into a mare to flee his advances, he changed himself into a stallion and mated with her, causing the birth of Arion. I also imbued Poseidon with that selfsame lust to ravage Medusa on the floor of Athena's temple, causing Athena to curse Medusa into the monstrosity she is today.

"I sent Zeus mad with the lust that caused him to turn himself into a white bull and abduct Europa, carrying her across the sea to Crete to ravage her, and I am the one whose lust forced Zeus to turn Io into a cow to hide his infidelity from Hera, which led to Io's tormented wanderings. And your father, Nico — it is I that caused him to seize Persephone by the hair and drag her to the Underworld; it is I who brought the concept of winter to the mortal world. There have been countless others throughout time, throughout history, and you ask why I mess with _you_? Because I _can_. I always mess with the powerful ones, the ones that think they're better than me and they're soon reminded that they are _not_."

The last word was hissed between clenched teeth as Himeros closed the distance between himself and Nico. Himeros reached out and cupped Nico's face, tucking a strand of hair behind Nico's ear. Nico shuddered, repulsed, and attempted to twist away, swinging an arm up to bat Himeros's hand off. Himeros's wing burst forward before he got a chance, however, and sideswiped him.

Nico was flung from his feet and cartwheeled through the air into the front of a filing cabinet. The metal buckled from the impact and sent a metallic thunderclap bowling around the office. Pain burst from his ribs and tore like a supernova from the point of his left elbow, jangling along his nerves up and down his arm and turning his fingers numb. He cried out in pain as he hit the floor face down. As he tried to push himself up blackness swamped his vision as he leaned on his arm and the pain in his elbow consumed every iota of consciousness he had to spare. The elbow collapsed under him and he hit the floor again, grunting in pain, suddenly very glad that he hadn't eaten more of Annabeth's French toast that morning as his digestive system threatened mutiny.

He used his other arm to push himself up this time, leaning back against the filing cabinet and cradling his bad arm to his chest. He couldn't help but let out a mewl of pain that he hated himself for; luckily there was only Percy there to hear it and it didn't look like he was in his right mind or going to be of any use.

Himeros walked over to him, smiling as widely as his frozen face would allow, and snagged a handful of Nico's hair, using it to drag him to his feet. Nico cursed and kicked out, but Himeros simply used his free hand to grab Nico by the throat and haul him off his feet, leaving him choking in mid-air. Himeros held him there for a few moments, his face arranged into wry and impassive amusement as he watched Nico struggle for breath, before turning and dumping Nico on his office chair. Himeros snapped his fingers and rope coiled out of thin air like cobras from a basket and bound Nico's arms tightly to the arms of the chair. His ankles were secured together and to the chair's central support.

Nico sucked deep gulps of air and tested his bonds. There was no slack in them and even with two working arms he wasn't sure he could have wriggled his way free.

"There, that's better," Himeros said approvingly. "I do hate it when things get so… _unpleasant_."

"Fine, you've got me," Nico bit out. "_Congratulations_. I'm yours. Do what you have to do, but let Percy go. Whatever you did to him get rid of it and I won't fight you."

"It's funny how he came here to save you and now you're trying to save him," Himeros said gleefully. "Ironic, no? Besides, I can't let demigods go around insulting me, _assaulting_ me, even, and let them get away with it. I have a reputation to keep up. I'm sorry, but neither of you are going anywhere. I can't reverse your cousin's condition even if I wanted to, not until the lust runs its course. Which of course it should have its chance to start doing any minute… _now_."

Five golden whirlwinds of dust burst into life around the office, sending papers shifting across Himeros's desk and fluttering to the floor. Out of the whirlwinds materialised five women Nico found, quite frankly, smoking hot.

Tumbling, glossy hair of all hues was artfully buffeted in the wind their entrance had created — they looked like they were on the set of a photo shoot, facing into a fan as their glossed lips pouted seductively. Nico was sure that he made a very embarrassing nose of longing when he saw them, which he hoped was hidden in the commotion of their entrance. Their beauty bordered on transcendental; they _shimmered _with it in a way that all the poets in the whole of human history working in collaboration for centuries could not have put into words.

Nico blinked and swallowed hard, but when he opened his eyes again the women were stuttering like bad projections or a faulty TV set. In between the glitches he pieced together flashes of hairy, hooved legs and glinting bronze ones, searing red eyes and skin the colour of sun-bleached bone. Oh, and fangs that would have made a great white back off (if sharks could swim backwards, that was, which of course they couldn't and Nico had no idea why he knew that or why he was thinking about that _now_ of all moments, when Percy was about to get eaten by five empousai).

A girlish giggle came from the group of empousai, a harsh juxtaposition of a sound that belonged at a sorority house pillow fight in the mouths of monsters. They moved over towards Percy, encircling him, tracing their hands across his chest and through his hair. Nico saw Percy jump as one of them grabbed a handful of his ass, but not in the 'hands off' manner Nico was expecting. One coiled her donkey leg around his waist and pulled him closer, whispering into his ear, while another gave him a shoulder massage and alternately nuzzled at his neck, a probing tongue pressing against the pulse she found there.

Percy leaned his head backwards and kissed the one giving him the shoulder massage, a long, slow, noisy kiss that set Nico's teeth on edge in disgust and his heart into his throat in panic. He yanked against the ropes tying him down but the more he struggled the tighter they got.

"Percy, they're empousai!" Nico yelled. "What is wrong with you? Come on man, open your eyes!"

It was like Percy hadn't heard; one empousa grabbed his chin and snatched his head from her companion and planted her own kiss on his lips. There was lip gloss smeared all around Percy's mouth; his green eyes had taken on the opaque frosting of sea glass worn smooth by the waves. Between the kisses and the slurping, Nico heard his cousin give another moan.

"Dangerous, man-eating monsters!" Nico continued. "Inspiration for most of the vampire legend, remember?"

Still nothing — one of them had her hand up his shirt now and Nico wrinkled his nose in revulsion.

"Percy, they are going to kill you and eat you," Nico pressed on. "And then if I make it out of here alive by some crazy miracle, Annabeth is going to kill and eat _me_ for letting it happen."

Suddenly, it was like a switch had been thrown deep within Percy's brain. The glaze in his eyes lessened and he pushed the empousa kissing him away lightly, shrugging the one massaging his shoulders off.

"Annabeth?" he echoed dimly.

"Yes!" Nico said enthusiastically. "Yes, yes. Annabeth, remember? Blonde. Grey eyes. Moody. Annoying as all hell and believe me, I actually have the authority to make that comparison. And she is going to kick our asses if you don't get your act together, so—"

Himeros had been shooting a suspicious glance between Percy and Nico throughout this exchange, rage simmering behind his eyes. He suddenly leapt across the space between himself and Nico and backhanded Nico across the face, snapping his head to one side and sending a spray of blood from his bitten tongue misting across the desk.

"That's enough out of you," Himeros snarled. "Girls, take him to the Versailles Room."

Nico knew the Versailles Room by reputation only; it was the one with the mirrored ceiling with the camera hidden in it and named so after the Hall of Mirrors in Paris's Palace of Versailles. Note that the grimy, grotty room was anything by comparison. The empousai were all over Percy again and it looked like the veneer of lust had begun to harden again, spreading across his face to slacken his jaw. Two monsters took one of his hands each while one took hold of a fistful of his shirt and a fourth snagged his belt buckle by his belt buckle, the remaining empousa chivvying the group along from behind.

"Annabeth!" Nico yelled desperately. "Annabeth freaking Chase! Remember, Percy, _please. _If she was here right now she'd be calling you, amongst other things I couldn't possibly repeat even in this company, Seawee—"

Himeros snapped his fingers and a strip of duct tape appeared across Nico's mouth, cutting him off. Nico looked on powerlessly as Percy was led away, able to do nothing more but grunt and curse himself in frustration.

Himeros laughed and placed a hand on Nico's head, spinning him on the chair to face the bank of monitors behind his desk. "Look," he said. "This is your hero, your knight on his white horse, about to become _lunch_. Never doubt the power of desire, Nico. The mightiest have fallen to it time and time again." He pressed a button on a remote he produced from his pocket and all sixteen screens blinked and came back up with various different shots of the same room. Apparently, Himeros hadn't just hidden a camera in the ceiling.

Nico let out a sob of frustration behind the gag as on the monitors he saw the door open and Percy be led in like a tame lamb into an abattoir. Percy was about to get _eaten, _all because of him.

"I suppose this can go now," Himeros said, reaching out and ripping the duct tape from Nico's face with all the associated pain of stripping the skin back to the muscle. Nico didn't care, he was too busy watching one of the empousa snag the collar of Percy's t-shirt and literally rip it from his body.

"If it is the last thing I do then I swear you _twisted _asshole I will end you," Nico snarled as soon as he could speak, venom burning in his words. "I don't care that you're a god or that you're immortal; I am the Prince of the Underworld and I will find a way. If you hurt Percy you had better _watch out _because I am going to come for you and you are going to know _pain._"

Himeros turned away from the monitors, where Percy had been pushed backwards onto a heart-shaped bed with satin sheets, to regard Nico with his head cocked. Then he burst out laughing, properly laughing in a way that had him bending double and wheezing, gasping for breath and clutching at a stitch in his side. When he managed to straighten up, still chuckling, he wiped tears from his grotesque parody of a human face.

"Congratulations," he gasped out at last. "I have not been this amused in five centuries, not since I was in the court of Henry the Eighth and believe me those were good times. Anne Boleyn's neck ended up on the chopping block after that whole snafu with her brother and the next day Hal only went and got engaged for the third time and it was long live the queen all over again! He always was one for getting back on the horse, if you'll pardon the pun. Oh, they were truly golden years... I mean, it's a shame her mother having head lopped off over everything put good old Queen Bess off love for life but that's okay. Philandering came back into fashion with Charlie Two. But my point is that I have seen the rise and fall of dynasties and you, a mere scrap of a mortal without a single spark of power to his name, thinks he can hurt _me_?"

"You're still bleeding from the last time I tried," Nico said. "Looks to me like I did a pretty good job of it if you ask me."

He took another glance at the monitors; Percy had vanished under a writhing mass of flesh Victoria's Secret would have rejected for being too tantalising.

Well. When the image wasn't on the fritz revealing the donkeys' legs, anyway. Unless you were into that, Nico thought — and he was fairly sure Himeros would have the magazine for you if you were — in which case who was he to judge?

"This?" Himeros asked, gesturing to the gash on his chest. "This is nothing. A mere flesh wound, the desperate swings of a demigod who is so lost and does everything he can to stay that way." He reached into his pocket and extracted an orange vial of pills and shook them at Nico. "A few more of what Ell was trying to slip you earlier. On the house, because if I remember this was your preferred way of getting so lost you didn't even have to care anymore and something tells me you'll need a little something to take the edge off after my empousai are done."

"Fuck you," Nico spat. "I don't need that anymore."

Himeros smiled and slipped the pills back into his pocket. "That's a lie and we both know it," he said. "But fine, we'll play a different game." He lunged towards Nico and Nico flinched, but Himeros's hand moved past Nico to the desk, picking up a double-edged letter opener with a jewelled hilt and bringing it back slowly, so it had time to catch the light.

Nico took a long breath in through his nose at the sight of it and set his jaw. He was under no illusions that Himeros had a pile of mail to open, so this was clearly going to suck but then again Himeros was no Mimas. He would deal with this now just like he had dealt with that then; let Himeros do his worst.

Himeros placed the tip of the letter opener in the crook of Nico's left forearm and Nico turned his head away, clenching the first attached to his right arm. He couldn't clench the arm Himeros was about to filet to manage the pain by digging his nails into his palm; it would only exacerbate the blood loos if Himeros got carried away and nicked the brachial artery. Luckily, Himeros had picked his bad arm so he could still clench his good fist, hopefully allowing him to get through this with some semblance of dignity.

The tricks you learned in the oh-so glamorous world of demigods.

Nico shuddered as Himeros began to score a meandering path across his arm but kept silent as the blade whispered and hissed through skin. He wasn't going to give Himeros the satisfaction of knowing that the cold bite of steel in his flesh was sending spikes of pain jangling around his nervous system.

"This would be much more pleasant for you if you hadn't destroyed my bow," Himeros said casually, curling the blade to the underside of Nico's wrist and finishing his work by tracing a heart into the flesh. "You could have been with Percy right now having the time of your life."

Nico looked down at his arm; the blood was glimmering thickly in the dim light of the office, seeping into the web of minute, previously invisible wrinkles. He could feel a pool of blood slowly building between his arm and the chair. His arm felt like it was burning, like it was being stung all over by a swarm of ants. The first drop of blood rolled off the edge of the arm and dashed itself to pieces on the carpet with a dry snap.

"Is that all you got?" Nico asked, not realising he'd been holding his breath since Himeros had first placed the point of the letter opener on his arm.

"What do you mean?" Himeros asked, wiping the blade of the letter opener on the front of Nico's shirt. "That looks pretty effective to me. So effective, even, that you might need something to take the edge off."

Nico looked up from his arm and shot Himeros a look that would have stripped paint from the hull of a battleship. It didn't even faze Himeros, though; instead, the god reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of pills again. iHiH

He popped the top off and tipped some out into his palm.

"I'll take that cute little frown of yours as a no?" Himeros asked, a mock pout contorting his face. He waved the handful of pills under Nico's nose. "But they're calling to you, Nico… just like old friends welcoming you home."

Nico closed his eyes, trying to erase the words on the prescription bottle from his head. It just made things seem more real, _closer_, when it was printed there in front of him in black and white, especially with the pain throbbing from his elbow and the biting sting of Himeros's handiwork with the letter opener reminding him of everything that needed to be blocked out right now. That and the fact that he'd probably got Percy killed because he couldn't handle himself; how was he meant to deal with that sober?

He felt a shudder go through him and he was sure he made a noise of desperation, even though he tried to hold it back. You didn't detox overnight; your issues and demons didn't disappear over the same period. It was going to be a long road to recovery but this? It wasn't helping.

"Pathetic," Himeros hissed in his face. "This is what you're reduced to. You used to be your father's lieutenant."

Nico opened his eyes, daggers spinning from them. That was the wrong button to press. "Yeah, well, you used to be revered and now you look like a waxwork someone held a little too close to the campfire," he spat. "So I guess we've all got our crosses to bear."

Himeros's lip curled and he grabbed Nico's jaw; Nico could feel each individual finger leaving bruises along the bone. He tried to yank his face free but Himeros's grip was too tight; his mouth was forced open and Himeros placed a pill on Nico's lips.

Desperately, Nico glanced over Himeros's shoulder at the monitors; what he saw split his face into a maniacal grin despite Himeros's hand on his jaw. Himeros paused at Nico's expression, removing the pill and eyeing Nico curiously.

"I've found my home," Nico said simply. "And it sure as shit ain't here."

Himeros frowned and turned around, but every single one of his monitors showed nothing but eddying motes of golden dust swirling gently to the floor of the Versailles Room.

"What?!" Himeros roared, snatching the remote from his desk and stabbing the buttons, flipping all of the different views around to different monitors and then, when that didn't change anything, slapping the remote against his palm like the batteries were low. "This makes no sense. What happened? How—"

"If I had a dime for every time I ever saw that face on someone who had pissed me off," Percy said from the doorway, where he was casually leaning against the frame with Riptide dangling at his side, "I'd probably have enough money for my own moon base by now."

Nico could have wept with joy, thrown a fucking parade at the sight, but even that didn't block the kneejerk reaction to snark, "A _moon base_? What would you do with a moon base? Like… that just doesn't seem practical at all. Are you going to summer up there or what?"

Percy blinked, scratching the back of his head. A golden shower of dust sprinkled from his hair. He was, despite being shirtless and covered in hickeys the size of saucers, very much alive. "Uh… I don't know. I didn't really think about it that much. It was just the most expensive thing I could think of at short notice, okay? Leave my moon base alone. No one's asking you to visit."

"Good, because call me crazy but I'm not queuing up to launch myself into the total vacuum of space just to swing by your place and say hi," Nico said.

"Enough! I shot you!" Himeros howled, his tone almost accusatory. "I hit you with one of my best arrows and sent you off in the arms of five beautiful, man-eating women. How did you escape? Are you gay? Because I did consider summoning this group of demonic Chippendales dancers with fangs I know but then I thought no, no gay man would ever wear those pants. And with that hair he must be straight."

Percy blinked. "What's wrong with my pants? I've had these for like six years. I like them," he said, looking down at his jeans. Sure you could see one of his knees through them because of this one time he'd had to throw himself off a speeding moped — _don't _ask — but apart from that and the frayed hems, they were perfectly good jeans. And by good he meant cheap enough that they didn't make his eyes water at the price but expensive enough to be comfy and survive the various laundry misdemeanours he committed when he either couldn't jam any more dirty clothes in his hamper or had run out of clothes to wear entirely. "And hey, leave the hair out of this."

"Not to cut this short, but I'd appreciate you doing something a little more final right about now," Nico said, yanking hard at his restraints. A trickle of blood wound its way from his arm and into a stuttering, halting dribble down to the carpet. "I'm losing feeling in my fingers because you took your sweet time. You must be getting rusty."

"Hey," Percy said, pushing himself off the doorframe. "I just had to wait until their guard was down. I am _not _rusty. And your demon skanks were great," he added to Himeros. "Don't get me wrong — and more importantly don't tell Annabeth — but they weren't at all hideous. But as Nico reminded me as I was leaving, none of them _were_ Annabeth. I don't care how mushy that sounds: thanks but no thanks."

Himeros's eyes narrowed. "Of course. Your requited _love_ for her blocked any desire I tried to kindle in you. You know, I haven't seen that work since Penelope. I tried and tried to get that cold bitch to pick a suitor already and give up on Odysseus but all she wanted to do was weep over her husband. For year after year after year I shot her full of arrows and suitors thrust themselves on her but she wasn't having any of it. Odysseus spent ten years at war and then ten years trying to get home and nope, _nothing _from her. Not even a sideways glance at a suitor. Frigid as the gods, that was a long two decades."

"Done whining?" Percy asked grimly. "Because Nico and I have lunch plans. Actually, we're late."

Himeros snarled and snatched up the letter opener again, launching himself across the room at Percy. Percy just managed to parry a blow with the letter opener that would have opened him up from navel to sternum but it was a close thing; twisting Riptide he caught the blade and knocked Himeros's arm aside at the last millisecond.

Himeros switched the letter opener to his mouth, clenching the blade between his teeth, and used both of his hands to grab Percy's sword arm. Percy yelped in pain at the crushing pressure, stumbling as Himeros forced him backwards by digging a thumb directly between Percy's radius and ulna. Percy, half-blinded by pain, drove his heel down on top of Himeros's foot and the god roared with pain and indignation; it felt like it was shaking the room to the rafters. The blade slipped from between his teeth and fell to the floor.

However, Percy was almost backed right up against the wall now. Himeros grinned and began smashing the wrist Percy was using to hold Riptide against the doorjamb until Percy's fingers, going numb with the blows and spasming with pain, let the hilt of his sword go. It tumbled to the floor alongside the letter opener. Himeros smirked and planted his feet like a hammer thrower and yanked Percy forward and off his feet in one move as if Percy were made of nothing but feathers. Percy yelped loudly as Himeros swung him through a full 180 degree turn.

"NO!" Nico yelled, straining against the ropes tying him down as he saw Percy heading for the wall.

It did no good; he couldn't get free and Percy's flying form shattered the drywall and splintered the studs underneath into a maelstrom of whizzing dust and splinters. Wood and plaster clattered over each other as they fell to the floor in an explosion of noise; nails and screws tore free from their moorings with a screech. Percy passed through the other side of the wall onto the mezzanine floor, demolishing a table under his weight as he hit the floor.

Then nothing but a ringing silence punctuated only by coarse grit hissing from the inside of the wall as it rained down on the debris. Even the murmurings from the club below them had gone eerily quiet.

Nico held his breath, his heart pounding against his sternum. He was shaking with the effort of trying to get out of the ropes, muscles trembling. Then he heard Percy groan and the relief crashed down on him like a tsunami wave and he collapsed into the chair, the fight vanishing with confirmation that Percy was alive and conscious.

For now.

"Hey, you want to give me another scar to remember you by?" Nico asked Himeros. "Because seriously, go right ahead. I've got plenty anyway. And I still think you're a dick and I'm not afraid to say it, so this last one taught me nothing."

Himeros ignored him, stepping over the detritus in the doorway and calmly moving towards Percy like he hadn't just used him for a spot of demolition.

Nico threw a desperate glance at the god's back but Himeros was focussed entirely on Percy like he was a heat-seeking missile and Percy was the depths of an erupting volcano. Nico's eyes swept the room frantically, trying to figure out a way he could help Percy, before they landed on the dull gleam of the letter opener on the carpet by the door. He looked down; he was strapped to an office chair with wheels. Admittedly not the smartest move on Himeros's part, but what villain ever _could _capture a prisoner and have it stick?

He threw his weight sideways and, with a slight squeal of protesting wheels, managed to shift the chair across the floor. His eyes lit up and he tried again, throwing his core into the movement to build the momentum and shifting further this time. With his face splitting into a wide grin and his gaze firmly trained on the letter opener, he continued to inch his way across the room.

When Himeros emerged onto the mezzanine floor, there were people on the stairs murmuring, girls with wide eyes holding thin robes closed around bedazzled costumes, all in various states of readiness for the stage, and a smattering of hulking men dressed in dark colours with gazes that would have sent you crossing the street to avoid them.

"Everything is fine," Himeros said easily. "Nothing I can't handle." He looked to a man standing at the top of the stairs. "Lloyd, get my girls back downstairs. I don't want them going on later with only half their face on. That's no way to keep the money coming in, is it?"

Lloyd nodded his shaved bald head and spread his huge arms, which were straining against a black t-shirt, herding the women on the stairs back down as if they were sheep. With his curled lips, bared teeth and sneer of contempt he was just as intimidating as any sheepdog.

The crowd on the stairs retreated downwards and Himeros turned back to Percy, who had heaved himself up onto all fours and was trying to hack up the dust that was accumulating in his lungs. Blood-tinged drool dangled from his lips as he choked. His arms and face were peppered with cuts and grazes; splinters stood up at all different angles from exposed areas of skin.

"What are we going to do with you?" Himeros asked, walking back to stand next to Percy, his voice dripping with disdain. "Do you know how hard it is to find one loyal empousa, let alone five? What am I supposed to do now? This new generation of monsters all want dental plans when I try to hire them and do you know how expensive orthodontistry for fangs is?"

"Need… a minute," Percy gasped.

Himeros's shoulders slumped; his head fell back and he rolled his eyes almost out of his skull. "_Seriously?" _he demanded. "Maybe Nico is right and you _are _rusty. I heard you defeated Ares, once. And now you need a minute? Well, sorry, I don't have a minute."

Himeros drew his foot back to deliver a kick to Percy's stomach, but Percy spun, one of the table legs from the destroyed table in his hand sweeping across the floor. It cracked against Himeros's ankle with a noise that set even Percy's teeth on edge and swept the god from his feet, but his wings flared at the last minute and kept him upright, their downbeats keeping him hovering a few inches off the ground.

Someone really needed to clip this guy's wings. Either that or pluck him, stuff him and roast him like the oversized turkey he was.

Percy scrambled up, backing further down the mezzanine floor towards the stairs to draw Himeros away from the trussed-up Nico. The adrenaline was coursing through his system, making him numb to almost all the pain he knew he should be feeling right now. He had hit the wall _hard _but he was fairly sure nothing was broken. The drywall and the studs behind them had been pretty flimsy for a wall; it wasn't like Himeros had thrown him through solid brick. You didn't just get up from that.

"Thought you could trick me, huh?" Himeros sneered.

Percy shrugged. "My bad. I should have figured that you wouldn't be as dumb as you look."

Himeros snarled; Percy heard the rush of wings and then Himeros was moving almost too fast to see, shooting across the space between them to plant a foot in Percy's chest. Percy felt his sternum and ribcage depress under the blow but managed to get the table leg he was holding into play just in time, catching Himeros in the side even as he was knocked off his feet. Himeros lost control for a minute, slapping against the wall, and Percy hit one of the leather couches (a _soft _landing for once, his luck must be changing). Then the couch flipped backwards, taking an end table and a lamp with it; the lamp shattered as Percy tumbled head over heels and actually managed to get back on his feet.

Of course, no one had been there to see how cool that had just looked, and he wouldn't ever be able to do it again if he tried, dammit, but still.

Percy glanced up as Himeros righted himself and hopped up onto the fallen couch, leaping across to a tabletop and then onto the back of another couch before Himeros even seemed to register that he was gone. As Himeros whirled to face him, streaking towards him once more Percy coiled his legs and sprung upwards, snagging hold of the metal lighting rig that was fixed to the ceiling. He met Himeros's rush forward with a snapped, two-footed kick to the god's face which sent Himeros smashing back against the wall to crumple and slide to the floor.

Percy alighted softly on the ground, reaching into his pocket to dig out Riptide as it reappeared there and uncapping it. He walked to Himeros and stood over him with the point of his sword at Himeros's throat. Himeros's nose was oozing golden ichor and one of his eyes was swelling closed. His jaw was wonky and if looks could kill, Percy would be less than a smudge on the ground.

"Not bad for a rusty demigod, huh?" Percy said. "And yes, you're right. I did defeat Ares once. And Hyperion. So you're a cakewalk, some sad pathetic minor god barely worth a mention eking out a living peddling porn and strippers and drugs to _kids. _So here is what is going to happen. You are going to call off your attack dog, Derek. You can forget about collecting any debts you think Nico owes you because from this moment, he owes you squat. And if I ever, _ever_, see your fucked up face again I will not be responsible for my actions. Are we clear?"

There was a crunch of glass breaking underfoot from the head of the stairs and Percy turned quickly; Lloyd had come back up the stairs and stood on a shard of broken lamp. That fact became less important when Percy realised he was staring down the barrel of a semiautomatic. Swords were great and all, he didn't want anyone to think that they weren't, but they did little when you were up against a gun.

"Boss?" Lloyd asked, peering questioningly down at Himeros on the floor. "Everything okay?"

"Do I _look _okay?!" Himeros snarled.

"Sorry, Mr. Himm," Lloyd said. "I just thought you said... you could handle it?" Himeros gave a warning growl deep in his throat and Lloyd tried to hide a gulp and immediately turned his attention to Percy, levelling the gun squarely at his chest. "You. Back off."

"Easy," Percy said, putting his hands in the air and following Lloyd's command. "But just so you know, he had this coming. He's been screwing with my cousin and I'm just here to talk it out."

Lloyd laughed, moving towards Himeros. "Kid, he screws with a lot of people's cousins. If every one of them turned up here with a machete each time that happened the place would be in ribbons. So put it down or I'll shoot it out of your hand. Got it?"

Lloyd reached down and helped Himeros to his feet; while he was distracted, Percy capped Riptide and slid it into his pocket, hoping the Mist would show the 'machete' on the ground.

"Well, aren't you troublesome?" Himeros breathed contemptuously, his voice a low hiss. "I'm glad now you didn't get eviscerated. I want to see the light wink out from behind your eyes." He tugged the gun from Lloyd's grip. "This isn't quite what I'm used to but I guess projectiles are projectiles no matter how you look at it."

He aimed the gun and squeezed the trigger, but at the last possible second Nico came barrelling out of the office, running at full tilt. After the explosion of gunfire everything seemed to slow for Percy; he could see Nico charging, droplets of blood being flung into the air as he pumped his arms. He saw Nico leap for Himeros's outstretched arm, teeth bared, grab onto it and then sink them into the god's bicep. He saw Himeros's look of shock give way almost gracefully through the motions to pain and then rage as the gun jerked to the side.

Then Percy felt a searing swipe of pain across his upper arm, like someone had drawn a white hot poker across it, and behind him he heard a bullet thud into the plaster. He staggered backwards, pressing his hand to the wound which was so deep blood was taking its time to well up. He landed awkwardly on an armchair, his ears and head ringing from the gunfire, and shakily took his hand from the wound when he saw blood was seeping through his fingers. Splintered, off-white fragments of what only could be the end of his clavicle grinned up at him like gnashing, crooked teeth from amongst the rising tide of gore.

"PERCY!" someone yelled, it was probably Nico, it had to be Nico, but the voice sounded so far away, immersed under a mile of water, diminished by the clamour in his eardrums.

Nico kept hold of Himeros's arm, dangling off the ground and trying to wrest the gun from the god's grasp. His fingers just managed to prise the gun away when Himeros swung his arm violently, dislodging Nico and tossing him through the air to hit the wall near the railing between the mezzanine floor and the club below. A plume of dust was beaten from the carpet when Nico landed but his prize, the gun, had made the flight too and Nico shoved it over the edge to vanish into the whirling glare of coloured strobes.

Himeros threw his head back and roared with rage. He stormed towards Percy, tossing aside one of the heavy leather armchairs like it was made of matchsticks. It rolled through the air and hit the railings, shearing them from their moorings and everything was then swallowed by the same combination of glare and darkness that had earlier devoured the gun. The railings jangled on impact; the chair hit with a reverberating boom. Himeros's hands were outstretched, aiming for Percy's throat; it looked like Percy was still in shock from the gunshot, with blood pouring down his arm. He was in no shape to resist Himeros.

Nico jumped to his feet and placed a foot on the railings, heaving himself up to balance precariously on the top bar, inching further to the left and away from the safety of the wall to cling to so as to get himself in the right position. He wobbled; it looked like the floor of the club below was rushing upwards to meet him and he gulped but kept his balance, fishing in his pocket for his lighter and flicking it open.

"Hey Percy," he called, holding the lighter up in the air, "it turns out smoking's not so bad for you after all." He clicked it, turned the flame up all the way and shoved it up under a sprinkler head.

There were a fleeting few seconds where Nico thought that it hadn't worked — a club that had blackmailed the health inspector about the cockroaches probably wouldn't be so hot on fire safety, either — but then an alarm bell began to trill and water sputtered and fizzed from the sprinkler head, immediately drenching Nico. It set off a chain reaction of all the sprinkler heads, dousing everything in the club. Screams erupted from below, and then pounding feet as people made their way to the exits. The lighting rig behind Nico began to flare and pop with sparks as it shorted, the water hissing and coiling into steam on the hot bulbs.

And, most importantly, it soaked Percy to the bone.

Nico gave a whoop of triumph as Percy rolled off the chair at the last minute, the wound in his shoulder likely already closing thanks to the water, and Himeros blundered forwards, tripping over the chair and disappearing behind it.

Then his jubilation was replaced instantly with panic as Lloyd loomed large in front of him. He grinned and shoved Nico hard; Nico lost his balance on the slick metal railing and tumbled over backwards, arms flailing, legs trailing, heading for the floor below.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey. Me again (at last). This was a difficult chapter for me to write for many reasons, and it was being stubborn, but we got there in the end just about. I don't know how much I like it, but it's got to be posted now or it may never be. Sorry to leave so long between updates again.**

**Okay… so I guess I haven't said this already because I'm not really in this business to give PSAs and all but seriously kids… don't do drugs. I don't want any monkey see, monkey do based on this fic. I'm hoping I'm doing my job in that I'm not making drugs cool or glamorous because in most cases, they're really not. It's just not worth it most of the time.**

**And now that's over, I move onto another warning: this chapter is relatively dark and may be upsetting. It was difficult for me to write for that reason. Also, know that I'm only a PM away if anyone ever wants to talk to me about any issues this fic flags up with them. I don't claim to be a doctor, but I have graduated from the very auspicious universities of life and experience **_**magna cum laude**_**, for better and for worse.**

**Of course, I'm also only ever a PM away if you want to chat to me about anything at all. I promise I don't bite. Also, I hope y'all known that I have to be up in about five hours to catch a flight, but I'm still sitting here typing. I really have to get this done today because I promised too many people. I'm sorry for any mistakes there may be towards the end of the chapter: I'm just too beat to be able to catch them all.  
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**My thanks again to UPDATE who has been deploying their usual tactic, and most of all to JJDracula, without whom this fic wouldn't exist, first of all, and second of all this chapter probably still wouldn't be written. She had put up with me frantically emailing her many times over the past couple of weeks going ARGH WHAT CAN I DO?! I don't know how she does it. She is an excellent sounding board as well as being an excellent artist.**

**Now, last and not least, I don't own these characters and I make nothing from doing this. It's all a much-needed distraction for my crazy brain.**

**Over and out,**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>"NICO!" Percy yelled, tearing his throat as he fought to be heard over the deafening ringing of the fire alarm and the hissing of falling water. His feet squelched on the sodden carpet as he stumbled and tripped his way to the edge of the mezzanine floor, looking desperately down into the almost total darkness of the club below. He shoved wet hair off his head distractedly; between the shock of the gunshot and seeing Nico vanish over the edge he had managed to let himself get wet without realising it.<p>

He turned to make for the stairs but the way was blocked almost immediately by Lloyd. He already had a fist cocked ready to punch Percy in the face. Rage boiled over inside Percy as he was confronted with the guy who had just pushed Nico to his maybe-death (or at least serious injury) and he clenched both of his fists.

Right away, he felt the tug of all of the water that made up Lloyd's body (around 70% of the human body was water, according to Annabeth). Every last miniscule drop making up Lloyd's blood and plasma, sitting in his digestive system, hiding in his cerebrospinal fluid and his eyeballs leapt to Percy's command and Lloyd gave a strangled yell and dropped to his knees. He was clawing at his face as water gushed from his eyes and nose, choking as he coughed and vomited water intermittently from his mouth. Percy's fists tightened and he could _feel _the delicate balance of electrolytes in Lloyd's body begin to shift, his brain cells begin to swell against the confines of his skull as he spasmed on the floor. Then he snapped out of it. Lloyd went limp on the floor.

He blinked in shock at his hands, which were trembling slightly. His mouth had gone dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. Never had he wanted to see the end of someone so much since he found out what Gabe had been doing to his mom but this wasn't who he was. Lloyd may not be a model human being but he still was one and it wasn't up to Percy to decide when he died.

He moved to step over Lloyd but Himeros had recovered from their earlier tussle and grabbed his arm. Percy growled deep in his throat. What did he have to do to defeat this one god? It didn't help that Himeros didn't fight like any other god that Percy had fought. Ares and Hyperion had been way more powerful but they came at Percy in full-frontal, direct assaults. He knew how to handle that. With Himeros it was all lust-poisoned arrows and exploiting human pressure points to gain the upper hand. Himeros fought like a coward, a manipulative, slippery, scaredy-cat. Himeros had grabbed the gun from Lloyd the first second things started to look bad and Percy had not trained for so many years to deal with _cowardice _from his opponents. Himeros knew he couldn't win fair and square so he was all about fighting dirty.

Well, that pissed Percy off.

"Lust and desire sell everything from cars and underwear to breakfast cereal and shampoo," Himeros sneered, tightening his grip on Percy's arm. "It's in your TV programs and your magazines. I _am _the face of modern civilisation and my domain makes me _powerful_. You don't walk away from me."

"Actually, I do," Percy bit out. "And before you start boasting you're the face of _any_thing how about you try looking in a mirror before you plaster that thing everywhere? It's not pretty. Now, like I said. Nico and I have lunch plans. Don't worry: I won't let the door hit me on the ass on the way out."

An enormous fist made entirely of water came surging out of the darkness beyond the railing, rearing up like a horse about to bolt before hitting Himeros like a freight train. The god's hand was wrenched from Percy's arm and he was torn away in a roaring gush of water, straight into the wall opposite the railing. There was an enormous crash and then daylight was spilling into the club from the hole Himeros had left in the cinderblock wall. Exposed, snapped wires jumped and sparked like electric eels as a cascade of debris tumbled after the god to the street below.

The whole club rumbled for a minute and then the din faded to a groaning and settling of timber, bricks and mortar. There was a crackling noise as fractures raced outwards from the point of impact through what remained of the wall, and then another section teetered drunkenly before crumpling inwards.

Percy snorted and walked over to the hole, grabbing a sheared pipe for balance as he looked down. There was a pile of rubble with a dust cloud rising lazily from it and the gentle skittering of smaller pieces of wreckage hopping and jumping their way down from the peak of the heap. Drifting indolently down from the hole were several black and red feathers, but that was the only sign that Himeros had ever been there. Percy's gut told him that he'd won the battle.

Damn. He'd had a quip all lined up about cowboy contractors and demolishing the competition that was going to go unused. Sad.

Percy turned away from the wall and walked to the edge of the mezzanine floor where the railings had been torn free earlier by Himeros throwing the couch. He capped Riptide and stepped off the edge; he barely had to ask the water pouring over the brink to solidify into a series of steps down to the main floor of the club.

The fire exit and the door Percy and Nico had come in were swinging open and the hole in the wall above was letting daylight pour down, so there was just enough life to see by. Percy's eyes immediately roved the club, searching for Nico.

"Nico?" he called into the gushing of falling water. "Nico, come on. You're scaring the crap out of me…"

Slowly, he paced through the club, skirting furniture, until he was standing directly under the spot he'd last seen Nico before he was pushed. He turned slowly on the spot, trying desperately not to think the worst but failing pretty dismally. What if the fall had broken his neck or his back and killed him? Nico would have come to Percy to save his life and for what? To be pushed to his death by some ridiculous minor god's mortal lackey?

Then Percy spotted a flash of pale white skin poking out from behind one of the clusters of armchairs and dashed over, skidding to a halt on his knees and feeling the carpet scrape a layer of skin off his exposed knee. Nico was lying in a crumpled heap on his back, one arm trapped underneath him and the other thrown up and across his face. His legs were splayed and crooked; there were trickles of blood being diluted and rinsed from his mouth and nose by the falling water.

"Nico!" Percy said desperately, his fingers probing Nico's wrist for a pulse. "If that fall killed you after everything I am going to be _pissed. _Your recently-deceased ass will be in for a kicking." Percy breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found one by pressing hard; it was thready and inconsistent but it was there. He eased Nico into his lap and pulled out a tiny hipflask of nectar from his jeans. It was too cumbersome to carry much more around unless he had a bag with him so it was all he had apart from a few squares of ambrosia in his back pocket that had been crushed to oblivion and probably thrice-laundered (godly food stood up well to washers _and _dryers, apparently, fabric softener be damned), but Nico was in no state to chew and swallow.

"Nico, wake up," Percy said, gently tapping Nico's face. It was cold. "Come on. I'm going to give you some nectar. You're going to be okay."

Nico groaned and turned his head. "No," he murmured quietly. "Ell… no…"

* * *

><p>Nico felt like there was a bubble in his chest that wouldn't burst no matter what. A herd of elephants could stampede over it and it would stay intact. With oxycodone making him bold he'd snagged a bunch of flowers from a flower seller's stall and managed to disappear into the crowd without getting caught and now he had an enormous bunch of white peonies and dahlias interspersed with pink roses clutched in his hand. Ell would love the colours and she would love the flowers.<p>

Now here he was, walking through the rapidly-dwindling spring sunshine with his eyes glittering and a smile straining at his face. He finally understood why Percy had so much to smile about all the time; if he felt the same way about Annabeth as Nico felt about Ell, and Nico was pretty sure that that was the case, then it was an _amazing _feeling. Like walking on air, like being filled to the brim with bubbles of champagne. Nico didn't know how or why but things just felt _right _when he was with Ell. The day was brighter. He was happier. Things were just plain _easier. _They'd only been involved for a month — that was what the flowers were for — but Nico wished it had been a million times longer than that.

He had no idea when he had ever felt this happy. _If _he had ever felt this happy. He remembered hazily moments inside the Lotus Hotel and Casino but how could something so fake be true happiness? And then after that Bianca had died and he'd wandered the Underworld as an outcast, a pariah, with only an evil and sadistic ghost for company. He'd stumbled through life even after the Second Titan War, not really sure of his place in the grand scheme of things or where he fitted in. Discovering Bianca hadn't waited for him in the Underworld and had moved on for rebirth had cut him to the bone in a way that finding Hazel had helped to deaden but hadn't numbed entirely. Everything had always sucked so hard for him; everything always fell apart.

And then not long after finding out that he'd never seen Bianca again, he'd been captured at the Doors of Death trying to _save _the stupid world and that had been it. Gaea and Mimas and his dad basically telling him that he was a disappointment and that he never wanted to see him again. Endless torment deep beneath Rome which still gave him night terrors (he was sick of waking up with his cheeks sticky from drying tears) followed by eternal banishment from the only thing he knew about himself for sure: that he was a demigod.

Nico's life had just been one giant car wreck from start to finish. From birth to his mother getting blasted to smithereens right in front of him to his imprisonment in the stupid Hotel for his safety without any memory of what happened, all the way through the miserable slog of existence that had been the norm until a month ago. A month ago today, someone (Ell) had noticed him and actually seemed to care about him because of (and despite of, he grudgingly accepted) who he was.

That was it. She just liked him because he was Nico, not because he had his father's ear and the keys to the Underworld on his belt (okay, not literally and not anymore but the meaning was clear). Ell wasn't talking to him because she wanted a shadow travel lift or to talk about some stupid dead relative; she didn't distrust him or judge him because of who he was and where he came from, or what his siblings had done in the past. All that she saw was that he was a _person_, which most people seemed to miss entirely. To others, he was the psycho child of Hades, the one who was already on the verge of insanity before Gaea took him and tortured him right over the brink before hauling him back up and repeating the process, but to Ell he was just Nico.

She had come to _him_, initiated conversation with him, laughed with him, engaged in flirtatious teasing. Ell was like a beacon shining through the darkness of the rest of his life, so much so that he found that he was having to use less to get through the day because he had her. Not that he'd quit and not that he and Ell didn't use together (something else they could share), but suddenly his life wasn't the black hole of suck it had always been. That meant that he found that he had more reason to simply get out of bed now and that meant that he didn't need to use as much.

Ell made him feel safe and welcome in the mortal world in a way that he had never felt before. No one had accepted him the way that she did, not since he'd walked away from his old life. And even then, aside from a select group of demigods, no one had really rushed to spend time with him. He knew he hadn't known her for very long but it just felt like she was his entire world. There was nothing else going for him apart from her. He thought about her all the time; spending time with her and talking to her was as natural as breathing. What he had done to deserve her he had no idea but it must have been something big (and probably in a previous life).

He was in such a good mood he didn't even flip the bird to the guy who had come around the corner too fast and almost flattened him as he crossed the street, despite the fact that the guy had leaned on the horn and slid the window down to scream obscenities about his degeneracy. You didn't hang around in this neighbourhood in your car, Nico reasoned: even a stop sign was an excuse for someone to jump you and drive off, probably with your brains smeared on the road in the rearview mirror of the car you used to own.

Ell made his life complete; she was like the last piece of a jigsaw he hadn't even realised was missing until now. Everything clicked into place with her around. She was fun and funny and daring. She knew all the best places to hang out and had opened his eyes wide to a whole slew of pharmaceutical possibilities he would never have dreamed about before. She was a good dancer, a _great _kisser, and he felt like she understood him in a way that no one else had ever done before. In a way that no one else ever _could_ have done before.

They'd tumbled into bed (and many others places) quickly, sure, but it had just felt so _right_. It was impossible to miss the sparks that flew between them, especially when they'd been dancing all night and half the day at some of the raves she found. Although she was older than he was and had done it all before, and although he had never felt close enough to anyone before her to have sex with them, she didn't seem to care. She was patient and encouraging and he felt like he'd grown and learned with her — and if you asked him, the sex was pretty damn good. Especially considering that a month ago trying not to hurl as Annabeth had drawn sperm and an egg on a dry erase board for him way back when, before Gaea, to stand in for his apparently frightening lack of sex ed had been the closest he'd actually come to sex.

Sure it had kind of been a mess at first but apparently that was true for everyone and besides: it had been a beautiful mess. That was what was important.

After sex and high on Zeus only knew what, words like 'I love you' seemed to tumble out from his lips before he could stop them, but was that so wrong if he really meant it? It was _true_, and he didn't remember the last time he'd felt so much truth in anything that he was saying.

Nico came to Ell's building. It was the shabbiest of walk-ups, with the outside walls stained with smears of dark green and brown which seemed to be oozing down the brickwork. They probably were, Nico reasoned. Even the mould wanted out of the place. The rusty fire escape dangled by the skin of its teeth to the building's exterior, leaving you with two choices in a fire: stay inside and burn to death or try out the death trap fire escape and became a pavement grease spot in an alleyway overflowing with garbage when it gave up the ghost and sheared free. The front door opened and Nico leapt forward to grab it before it could close: he decided he'd rather surprise Ell with the flowers.

It was Ell's roommate who had come through the door, shaking her head and muttering darkly. She scowled at him as she had to squeeze past, but then recognition dawned behind her eyes and her face split into a nasty grin.

"Nico, hey," she said. She caught sight of the flowers in his hand and grinned harder, her mouth curving upwards. The maliciousness of the facial expression still couldn't put a pin in the bubble that Nico had inside him, though; he barely even registered it.

Her name was Brenda or Bernice or Bernadette or something like that and she had a huge love/hate relationship with Ell so it was no surprising she wasn't exactly friendly. She didn't have Ell's looks or dancing talent and was therefore little use to someone like Mr Him and his associates. Instead, she had to work street corners and climb into the back of rusted out sedans where it became painfully obvious the suspension was shot to pay her half of the rent. But, like Nico, she benefitted from Ell's seemingly preternatural ability to score top-notch drugs with barely a thought, so she tolerated Ell. Nico tried to have as little to do with her as possible.

"Hey," he said cautiously. The grin began to niggle on him, even through the armour that the oxycodone and his happiness had strapped to him. "Going out?"

She looked down at herself: she was wearing a coat and had a small purse over her shoulder. That much was painfully obvious and the facial expression she gave when she looked back up at Nico said so.

"Right," he said. "Sorry. So, Ell's upstairs right? I wanted to give her these." He waved the flowers at her, a talisman to protect against the bad vibes she was sending out.

"She sure is. Go right on up." Again with that smile — he was surprised she hadn't told him to have a super-duper day at the same time. He was reminded of Rachel that one time she'd teamed chocolate-covered espresso beans with triple macchiatos to get a project done and felt a vague pang in his chest, but then he noted how creepy this girl's smile was, like Jaws on discovering a skinny dipper thrashing around above him in the moonlight, and all memory of Rachel was wiped from his brain. She was no Rachel. That was part of his old life. This new life, the one with Ell, was the one that belonged to him now. Even if it did include bitchy roommates.

"Ooookay," Nico said, giving her the side-eye as he walked into the building. "Thanks?"

"No Nico," she said. "Thank _you._"

Nico kind of nodded at her, because he wasn't really sure what else to do and dammit, before Ell he hadn't really done much of the social interaction thing to know what was acceptable when you wanted to back away slowly because your conversational partner might be a nutjob. He shook his head as the door to the building slammed behind him, leaving Ell's roommate safely on the other side of the security glass. Maybe Ell hadn't shared with her tonight so she hadn't scored and was having to go to work sober. Maybe that was why she was on edge, Nico considered as he climbed the stairs. It made sense; in her shoes, he didn't think he'd have been too happy, either.

When Nico got to Ell's floor he knocked on her door. There was no answer but he heard movement inside; cocking his head, he caught what sounded like slow thumping through the wood. He knocked again.

"Ell?" he called. "It's me. Are you in there?"

There was still no answer so he tried the doorknob: it wasn't locked. The apartment beyond was in almost total darkness. The holey, moth-eaten sheets tacked up to the window as drapes blocked out most of the fading light from the street. There were discarded clothes tossed around the small apartment, on the back of the sagging couch, puddled on the floor, sliding from the stools in the kitchen. Sequins from Ell's dancing costumes winked at him through the gloom. There was a mound of dirty dishes in the sink. A large, upturned cardboard box that served as a coffee table had a small place cleared in one corner amongst the detritus for a square of mirror, a razor blade and a damp ten dollar bill slowly unfurling from a tight roll.

Nico's heart sank into his stomach, which contorted as a greeting. He'd only ever seen Ell take coke with one person and that was Derek; she claimed it was too easy to cut it with God only knew what to trust anyone else aside from Derek with its purity. Nico had no idea why Ell trusted Derek so implicitly; Derek was good enough for getting any number of drugs from but as a person he creeped Nico out big time, more than half the monsters he'd fought.

Nico bit his bottom lip as the thumping from the apartment's only bedroom kicked up a notch; now he was inside he could hear moaning and groaning accompanying it. His throat felt like it was swelling and suddenly he could barely swallow. He wasn't stupid or naïve, no matter how many times Ell ruffled his hair and told him he was. If Ell's roommate had left and she'd said that Ell was upstairs then there was only one person who could be in the bedroom and that was Ell, and it sounded like she was in there with company. Judging by the abandoned cocaine paraphernalia, that person had to be Derek. The groans of exertion had a rumbling bass to them that could only come from another guy. Ell was clearly not alone and what was more, it didn't sound like she was having a terrible time, either.

He felt impotent tears prick hotly at his eyes for a second before he blinked them back. It was no good getting sad or mad until he'd seen what was happening with his own eyes. Still, he stood there in the living room not able to make himself move for the longest time, the soundtrack to his inertia being the ever-wilder grunts and breathing through what had to be the thinnest diving wall in the city. He could actually see it shifting as what he assumed to be the head of the bed pounded into it and suddenly he was besieged with the image of Derek and Ell fucking their way right through the wall and into the living area, catching him standing there trembling like the world's worst peeping tom.

His feet felt like lead but he forced them to move towards the bedroom door, even though he was pretty sure he knew what he would find. It felt like something inside was tearing as he made his way across the apartment — the short distance across the living room yawned into unfathomable miles as he stepped closer to the bedroom door.

He had trusted Ell. He had let her into his heart, shown her all of his weaknesses and vulnerabilities, poured his heart and soul out to her. There were things he had told her that he had never told anyone before and it had allowed him to feel free and truly unburdened. Ell had allowed him to be truly human for the first time in the longest while; with her, he suddenly had thoughts and fears and hopes and dreams that he had just never had before. She had brought all of that out in him and he had thought that maybe, just for once, he was going to have something good that would last and not be destroyed. Ell was the promise of a future, a better life, proof that things were going to be okay no matter what.

And now?

Now she was screwing their psychotic drug dealer. He reached the door and nudged it open and there they both were, intertwined, their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Ell's eyes were rolled back into her head and her back was arched up towards Derek, whose muscles were flexing and undulating under the skin as he thrust.

Nico dropped the bouquet of flowers to the floor with a wet splat when he saw it. He didn't know what else he'd been expecting but here it was, right in front of him. His heart felt like it had turned to ice and then Derek had smashed it with a hammer; glittering shards must now surely be raining down around him to the stained carpet.

It was Ell, Ell who had been… _everything _to him, everything now, everything that ever could be, the one person who gave him some hope that he wasn't a total fuck up of a human being, a waste of oxygen. She had been the only one to ever give him hope that maybe he'd have a future and deserved some happiness, and she was screwing Derek right under his nose.

His knees buckled and he was sure he would have fallen to the floor if Derek hadn't noticed him at that point and grinned at him, holding triumphant eye contact as he slowed his hips to an achingly teasing pace and smirked at Nico, his face an exaggerated mask of ecstasy. There was a slow, powdery nose bleed meandering its way from one of his nostrils, glistening thickly on his upper lip.

The useless rage welling in Nico kept him on his feet, even as Ell responded to the sudden change by moaning and wrapping her legs around Derek's waist, pulling him deeper. Fury seared white hot in his veins but there was literally nothing he could do about it. Derek would tear him apart.

Ell's mouth opened and she gave a breathy, vibrato moan that he had never heard her give before and it was like taking a punch to the gut. Somehow, all of the oxygen vanished from the room and he couldn't breathe. The world was off-kilter and it felt like the floor was trying to throw him off as his chest was compressed and the air squashed from his lungs. He was aware dimly that he was digging his nails into his palms and that there was a coppery taste filling his mouth that suggested he'd bitten through his cheek but it all seemed so far away.

Derek's eyes hadn't left him and more than anything Nico wished for his sword right now. He imagined Derek's head being sliced from his shoulders and bouncing across the floor but all it did was make the hole inside him where his powers had once been gape all the wider. He could rush Derek right now, sure, maybe get one sucker punch in, but he'd seen Derek in action. Derek would have beaten him to a pulp with one hand while putting his pants back on with the other before Nico could even do more than hurt himself on Derek's huge frame. There was literally nothing he could do that wouldn't result in him getting his face mashed to purée by Derek's fists.

The room dissolved in a blur of tears: he wished Ell had ripped out his heart and stomped it under a stiletto, because that probably would have been less painful than what he was feeling right now. The worst part was that she hadn't even opened her eyes, didn't even know that he was here, that he'd come with flowers. She probably didn't even remember that they'd been together a whole month today.

The future that he hadn't even realised he'd been constructing in his head was unravelling like the cheapest of rugs. It had clearly been blazing like a beacon this entire time because without it, that promise of hope and happiness, the world suddenly seemed very dim. Empty. Cold.

_Lonely_.

The fact that he could never have a moment of happiness without it being torn away chose that moment to slap him in the face and he reeled from the blow, finally able to break eye contact with Derek and wander from the room with the associated daze of a sleepwalker. His mind and his vision tunnelled as he walked out of the apartment. At the top of the stairs he pulled the bottle of oxycodone out of his jeans and dry swallowed two pills before making his way downwards on shaky legs.

How stupid had he been, to think that any other human being would want him? To believe that he was worthy of someone else's love and attention? It was painfully obvious that he was never going to be allowed to be happy, so why did he think his luck had suddenly changed?

When he hit the street the cool air made it apparent that he'd been silently crying the entire time he'd been going down the stairs. He cuffed tears from his eyes angrily, shoving his hands into his pockets and storming off down the street. He didn't need to look any more pathetic that he did already, than he _was _already.

_If only you could see me now, Dad, _he thought grimly. Here he was, crying over some relationship he was idiotic to think would ever work and waiting desperately for the warm, gently plashing waves of euphoria from the oxys to crash over him and blunt the razor-sharp blades that seemed to be spinning in his chest.

As he walked the opiates began to work their magic, teasing their way into his bloodstream and bringing with them a sense of slightly-drunken calm. The screaming tornado of hurt and anger and pain and hate quietened to a dull background roar until he could only just hear the pounding of his feet on the pavement. He glanced over his shoulder once, debating on whether or not to go back now he was in a better place but then he shrugged it off. All he wanted to do was go back there and take a baseball bat to the apartment, smashing to pieces anything he could lay his hands on, and maybe Derek if he was still there.

As much as he wanted to do that, he didn't think he could bear the expression on Ell's face if she saw that. He didn't want her to be scared. In fact, he didn't want anything bad to happen to her at all, despite everything. He knew he would crumble if she gave him one reproachful look the second he swung this theoretical baseball bat (which of course he didn't even have) and all of the things he was feeling now would vanish.

He realised that his feet where taking him in the direction of Him's, for whatever stupid reason his subconscious had for that. The evening shift wouldn't be in full swing yet because it was so early, and Ell would be due to start her shift at some point in the next couple of hours. Despite that, the neon lights of Him's were lit up as he rounded the corner and he hesitated. Ell would be walking this same journey soon enough to get ready for the night shift. Would it be so wrong to wait for her inside? He _needed _her despite what he'd just seen, more than he needed any of the pills he'd ever taken.

Maybe her having sex with Derek was a one-time thing. Maybe she'd got carried away after too much cocaine. Maybe… maybe despite everything, she'd still want him like he wanted her?

Nico only wished he could be that hopeful.

Setting his shoulders he walked towards the club, taking his penultimate oxycodone as he did so, even though he was already feeling mellow to the max. Would this be the pill that killed him? He wasn't sure that he cared right now. Dying in a euphoric haze as his body underwent respiratory failure was a whole lot less messy than throwing himself under a subway train, that was for damn sure. The world was going pleasantly fuzzy around the edges; his eyelids felt like they were being gently brushed closed by the thumbs of angels. He could practically hear a choir of them fading into the background.

"Hey, Lance" he said to the guy on the door. He was another man-mountain of Derek's proportions (Him liked his male employees to be able to both look and be terrifying), chewing on a wodge of gum and looking like he was made of granite inside his ill-fitting suit. "Is Ell in yet?"

Lance had seen them together before, knew that they were involved. "No," he said. "Her shift starts in half an hour, though, so if she doesn't get a move on she is going to be late. The regulars get antsy when their favourite girl's not there to kick off the evening set."

"Mind if I go in and wait for her?" Nico said, hoping he sounded casual. The oxycodone in his system had made him feel like he was floating by this point, borne upwards away from this disgusting place on the fluffiest of clouds coasting along on the warmest, gentlest breezes, so he had no idea what he actually sounded like. Still, Lance was no stranger to seeing him strung out, so what did it matter?

Lance shrugged. "If you want," he said, and threw out a massive arm to open the door for Nico. "You better hope she makes it in time for her shift, though. Him won't let us damage the merchandise for tardiness but he's not fussy about what we do to who they're screwing."

"Got it," Nico said. He gave a half-hearted salute as he walked through the door, marvelling at how his arm felt like it was full of cotton candy and lead all at the same time.

The club was almost empty when he got there. Lance hadn't been wrong when he said that Ell was one of Him's star attractions and that the evening show didn't really kick off until she went onstage with her dancing troupe. Nico recognised a few of the women coiling themselves around the poles for the amusement of a handful of leering regulars. They were all thumbing grubby ones but it didn't look like any of them had been persuaded to part with their cash yet. The early evening show never featured Him's star performers, and most men needed a lot more liquor and heavy petting before the dancers would get any money out of them.

Nico walked through them all, suppressing a shudder at their glazed expressions. One had his tongue slightly poking out and the overall effect was just creepy. It reminded him a little too much of zombie movies, with the walking dead pressed up against glass, fogging it with their filthy, bloody breath.

What was he doing here? He realised he had no idea but kept pressing forwards anyway. What was the big plan? Confront Ell when she turned up for her shift and have it out with her while she was gyrating onstage? He had no idea what his plan was, but he felt like he deserved some kind of explanation. _Any _kind of explanation. He wasn't going to get one with Derek on top of her so… he'd just have to wait. He could do that. Wait.

At the back of the club, around the side of the bar which was in the shadow of the mezzanine floor above, was a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY'. It was the dressing room for the dancers, the place where Ell really needed to be soon if he was going to avoid having his face rearranged. No one said anything or made any move to stop him as he pushed open the door. He frequented the place with Ell, so most people that worked there knew him. Probably wondered what the hell Ell was doing with him as well, but an hour ago that had never mattered to him. Now, with images of her and Derek laser cut onto his retinas, all it did was bring a fresh bite of pain. They had been right — he wasn't good enough for someone like Ell and she thought so, too, or what would she be doing with Derek?

Nico had also mustered the art of looking particularly small and non-threatening. It helped that he actually _was _small and non-threatening, naturally, but between that and his apparent natural gift for seeking out the shadows and blending in that was apparently more part of his DNA than his demigod powers he knew how to slip by with hardly anyone blinking an eye. It was why Derek had beat him into doing drops for him on plenty of occasions, usually when Derek knew there was a chance he could get caught. Nico, on the other hand, as long as he didn't do anything dumb like announce his presence and flash the merchandise around, barely blipped on the most watchful of cops' radars. He didn't have many gifts, but that was apparently one of them.

His mother would be so proud.

When you dance on stage in front of an audience in little more than strategically-placed sequins and feathers strung together tenuously by elastic, there was little room for being a prude. Therefore, when Nico walked into the dressing room, none of the women present batted so much as an eye.

The room was long and narrow, with a double row of vanity mirrors facing can other and running down the middle, each mirror framed by more burned-out lightbulbs than glowing ones. Long counters ran underneath both rows of mirrors; each mirror had a stool in front of it. This was where the dancers sat to do their hair and makeup before going onstage. It was still early, so most of the stools were empty, but some were occupied by kimono- or négligée-clad girls layering on stage makeup and glitter or torturing their hair into ringlets with curling irons. Against the two walls were racks of stage costumes on wheels. The room smelled heavily of perfume.

Nico wondered if the Aphrodite girls knew what all their primping and prepping in front of mirrors would actually make them perfect candidates for clubs like Him's and thousands of others across the world. Aside from the dim lighting and the stained walls and floor, this could have been their cabin.

By now, Nico was starting to feel… now what was the appropriate medical terminology? Oh yeah: royally fucked up. His eyes were heavy and his head was pounding, although not painfully; it felt like someone was stuffing his head full of fluff the same way they stuffed teddy bears. It felt like air was being dragged kicking and screaming into his lungs through the narrowest of straws and his heartbeat was the slowest, dullest of background throbs, muffled by the cotton wool in his head. Vaguely, he was aware of his stomach churning underneath everything as well.

Nico didn't walk down the alleyway made by the mirrors; light was a precious commodity in a room as dingy as this and he had seen actual catfights break out amongst those who cast shadows on their fellow dancers. Instead, he made his way down the left hand side of the room, picking his way over fallen stilettos without partners and crumpled, thigh-high boots; over discarded fishnet tights with holes and trailing feathers boas; over spent, dented cans of hairspray and toothless eyeliner pencils. He had seen tidier, post-battle warzones.

Glitter shimmered incessantly amongst it all; the girls shed it like snakes shedding their skin or, as Mr Him liked to say, his girls sparkled like stardust from heaven.

Well Nico's vomit spattered like Niagara once you'd passed him the bucket.

It was getting harder and harder to walk now, harder to even keep in a straight line. It was like wading through treacle; he stumbled as he couldn't lift his foot high enough to clear an abandoned hairdryer.

Ell's mirror was right at the very end, directly underneath one of the two working overhead bulbs in the room. Even the buzzing, low wattage and orange output was considered a spotlight of supernova proportions in a place like Him's dressing room, and it was given to his star performer.

Still no one looked at him as he moved to stand in front of Ell's mirror. As well as the bulbs, the mirror was surrounded by brightly-coloured Mardi Gras beads. Makeup was scattered across the countertop. There was a jewellery box made of white wood and painted with pink hearts; it belonged to another time, another world, a little girl's bedroom and not the back room of Him's. Its presence clashed outrageously with the surroundings. Ell had kissed the glass of the mirror with lips glossed heavily in bubblegum pink some time ago, and the imprint was encrusted on the glass. Nico reached out, gently swiping his fingers across it.

As he touched it, he felt something snap inside him and he was glad Ell had left her stool out because his legs gave way. He fell onto the stool, once again feeling the hot prickle of tears searing at his eyes. He had little choice but to let them come and they brimmed from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. Long ago, down in the Underworld after Bianca had died, he'd learnt that if he was a loud crier it echoed back off the cavern walls at him mockingly. He had soon learned to stifle his sobs. It was a habit that had stuck around and tears dripped silently from his chin.

He hated that he was crying and his face flushed with shame, but his legs wouldn't obey him to get him off the stool, let alone out of the room. It was just that there didn't seem to be anything else to do when everything inside him felt so jagged and _broken_. Ell had been more to him than just a girlfriend. She represented the hope that his life didn't have to totally suck, that maybe he wasn't doomed to live a long, miserable existence all by himself without ever making a connection with another human being. And she and _Derek _were screwing around behind his back? It was like he meant nothing to her, like he'd been discarded like yesterday's garbage.

He bit his lip hard; vaguely, in the deep recesses of his brain, he tasted the coppery tang of blood but never felt his teeth puncture flesh.

He was an idiot. A fool. A joke. He was worse than nothing and he hated himself for letting himself think that he could ever be happy. Anger sparked by self-hatred flared inside him and he grabbed the jewellery box and threw it as hard as he could at Ell's mirror, letting loose a bellow of rage. The mirror spiderwebbed into long, pointy shards of reflective glass; a couple fell from the frame to tinkle on the countertop as lightbulbs shattered by the jewellery box burst in a spray of sparks. There were yelps of shock from the women in the room but Nico barely heard them. The blood was pounding too hard in his ears.

The jewellery box had fallen upside down and spilled its guts like it had been disembowelled, eerily creaking out lingering notes of music. A ballerina was crushed sideways underneath, clumsily trying to pirouette as the machinery inside clunked and whirred in protest. Gaudy, tacky jewellery designed to look good only from afar littered the countertop in amongst the glimmering shards of mirror. Poking out from underneath the mass of trinkets was the corner of a photograph. Nico frowned, snagging the corner and dislodging everything that had covered it. He'd never seen any photos in Ell's apartment; he had always assumed that the reminder of her old life and capturing forever in time her new one would be too painful for her.

Despite that, she'd not only taken this self-shot photo but she'd taken the time (and money) to get it printed. It was of her and Derek, both wrapped up against the cold, and in amongst a throng of people. Ell was smiling, looking giddy and drunk on happiness (and probably a lot more besides), snuggling into Derek's body. Derek wasn't smiling; his eyes looked as cold and empty as ever but he had his arm around Ell anyway. Nico didn't know if he could actually feel human emotion but it didn't matter because, in the background, a huge balloon drifted past.

Nico's fists clenched and the photo was inadvertently crumpled. This was the Thanksgiving Parade. From November. Over_ five months _ago. Ell had been with Derek this entire time? Nico had spent the past four weeks thinking that they were everything to each other and… The whole time. Derek had probably been screwing her all along. And she had let him, and she hadn't told Nico. Probably didn't even care.

"Get out," he hissed, barely able to make his lips, which felt like they'd been turned to stone, move. Stunned silence greeted his words so he looked up, the world kaleidoscoped by the tears trembling in front of his vision. "I SAID GET OUT!"

He swept everything from Ell's counter to the floor. Bottles of cheap perfume shattered; compacts sprang open and their contents billowed into the air. Nico reached and wrenched the stupidly bright beads from around the mirror, tearing a few more bulbs out as he did so, ripping at them with his hands until the strings broke and beads burst forth with the cacophony of hail on a tin roof. He hurled the ugly reproduction jewellery in all directions; the dancers quickly began to flee the room, some little more than half-dressed, ducking under flying projectiles.

Nico was breathing heavily. With shaking hands he reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of pills. There was one last, lonely, solitary pill left and he let it roll around inside slowly, holding it up to the light. His eyes were already blurry and dragging closed; his heartbeat was bizarrely slow given the exertion. Breathing in was such a hard task, like climbing up a mountain, while breathing out was like whizzing down the mountain's other side on an unstoppable tea tray. Quick. Easy. So fast he barely knew it was happening before it was time to desperately try to drag in another breath.

And despite that, despite the blissful fuzziness and the vague awareness that if his lip was dripping blood onto the counter he should probably be in pain, the photo he was clutching in his hand burned through all the pills' effects. So that made the decision easy: he tipped the last pill into his mouth and swallowed. He yearned for the pain of everything to just dissolve with the pill in his stomach.

Ell had been cheating on him this entire time. With _Derek. _Every single time anything good happened in his life, something would always ruin it. The higher the moments of happiness took him, the longer he had to fall and the harder the impact when he landed. He couldn't keep picking himself up from that; didn't _want _to keep picking himself up from that. What kind of life was that, just waiting for some fresh hell to be wrought so he could put himself together again?

He was nothing. He had no one and never would. Everyone he ever thought he cared about always left, in one way or another.

The rest of his life seemed to yawn forever in front of him, an endless slog of trials and tribulations without a single bright spot on the landscape. Nico wasn't sure he could live another ten minutes feeling like this, let alone another ten years. _How?_ And, if everything was going to be this hard, if everything was going to hurt this much, _why_?

The drugs worked to a certain extent but they could never fully erase everything. Nico's thoughts flitted to the drifting of the souls trapped in Asphodel, their lives gradually fading from memory as time passed. That was the only way to fix this, to truly forget who he was and how much his life sucked. And what if he lived to be some ridiculous ripe old age, like forty? That was over twenty years from now. Twenty years of feeling like this.

He wasn't sure he could wait that long.

One of the shards of mirror was spitting the light of the overhead bulb into his face and he let his fingers ghost over it before picking it up. He caught sight of his reflection. He was a ghastly, deathly grey. Underneath all of the blood welling from his bottom lip, the flesh was blueing. The dark smudges under his eyes stood out angrily against the pallor. His pupils were tiny; he didn't think he'd ever seen them this small before. His fingers were tingling and numbing to the point where he could barely hold the piece of mirror aloft.

Nico knew a mess when he saw one. A car wreck, a train wreck, call it what you wanted. He was one. An abject failure in every aspect of his life.

He bit into his bottom lip again; a fresh gout of flood welled forth and dribbled onto the counter. Dazedly, he pressed the shard of mirror to his forearm, just enough to begin to feel its coarse teeth. He pushed a little harder and was met with pain dimmed by opiates to a tiny spark as blood began to well from underneath the mirror. His eyes flicked to the door and he withdrew the shard.

The dancers wouldn't tolerate him hogging the dressing room for very long at all. They'd soon get one of Him's goons to kick him out and given that it was almost definitely past time for Ell to start her shift, they probably wouldn't be too gentle about it.

He wasn't sure how long it would take to bleed out from his brachial arteries. Maybe too long and he was fairly sure he'd read something about someone cutting too deeply on their first arm and severing the median nerve along with the artery and not having enough control left to do the other arm. Or maybe it had been someone he'd talked to. He had dealt with a lot of messy death, once upon a time. However he knew that, he wasn't sure he wanted to trust it to be quick enough.

Glancing at the door again he took a deep breath despite the effort it took him, pulling down the collar of his hoodie. The carotid artery was a little more important than the brachial arteries; maybe he'd have more luck there. He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes and pressing the shard of mirror to his throat. It jumped underneath his fingers with the dull, sluggish beats of his heart.

The last pill he had taken was starting to kick in now and he felt himself almost fall forwards to crash onto the counter before jerking himself awake. No, it was no good to take a nap. He had to do this first.

Oh gods.

_This_.

He took the mirror off his throat and glanced at himself again, eyes roving dispassionately over the slice of himself he saw. It was the only way, he told himself. What was the alternative, what other options were open to him? He had exhausted every possible avenue and found them filled with nothing but rusty barbed wire and thorns. What other way was there to solve the emptiness the echoed hollowly inside his chest?

"Hey, Dad," he sneered, moving the mirror back to the base of his throat and gripping it so hard he felt it gouge into his hand. "Guess who's coming home?"

He slashed.

Blood hesitated expectantly in the mouth of the gash before it was unleashed, a crimson burbling brook excitedly tasting fresh air. It ran frenziedly down his front. The mirror fell to the floor, blood gleaming thickly on the glass.

This time Nico didn't fight the urge to slump forward onto the desk. His eyelids stubbornly refused to close despite how heavy they were; he stared straight at the reflection of his eye in a fragment of mirror lying on the countertop much smaller than the one which had been his release. His pupil remained tiny; the eye filled with a tear which slid out and down his nose.

Then his eyes did close and there was nothing but a tantalising drifting bearing him away.

The shadows in the room surged into life, slinking oilily from where they'd been clinging to surround Nico's slumped form. They dulled the vivid red of the blood beginning to ooze over the precipice of the counter and drip steadily onto the floor.

"Stop," a voice commanded. The shadows jumped back from Nico and scurried back to their original places in the room. "I am here. There is no need for you."

Hades stepped out of nowhere, his eyes surveying the room with blatant contempt. His eyes alighted on Nico and his breath visibly hitched in his chest. "Oh my son… what have you done?" he murmured, crossing the room to be at Nico's side. He gently brushed hair back from Nico's face, tucking it behind his ear. "All this time I've been looking for you and you've been in New York, right under Olympus' nose. I still wouldn't know where you were if you hadn't… Oh, Nico. Why this? You've seen more of the Underworld than any and you're clamouring to join its ranks under these circumstances? Don't you know where this will get you?"

Hades waved a hand and the wound in Nico's throat sealed into an angry red semblance of what it had been. He scooped Nico up easily from the stool, letting his legs drape over one arm and supporting his upper body with the other. "I'm sorry for what I did, Nico," Hades said to his unconscious son. "I wish you knew how sorry. I was angry. Selfish. A fool. All I saw was another one of my children causing all the gods to mock and revile me when I'd worked so hard and come so far towards making my peace with them. I should have seen that you are the single most important thing in my life. I should have been willing to give a thousand Olympian thrones for you. Instead… I made the wrong choice."

Hades stepped backwards into a waiting vortex of shadows and when they reappeared they were standing outside an emergency room, in the midst of a bustling ambulance bay.

"I wish I could make this all better," Hades said to Nico softly. "I can close a throat wound in a mortal heartbeat but your other problems, your substance issues… I don't expect you to understand, but I see great things for you, Nico. You will make me and Olympus proud one day but first of all you have to find the strength to beat these issues yourself. There is no easy way out for this one, as much as I wish I could give you one. And you must learn to trust me and the Underworld again, also. I intercepted your shadow travel just in time and it wasn't about to bring you down to me. I didn't even think about that when I set that up. I just assumed… you'd always want to come home. To me. Where you were about to go, though, you would have died. You were almost gone. Only I could have saved you this time. I know you don't consider my domain home anymore, and I can't say I blame you. Not after what I did. One day, once you've found the strength to beat your demons your powers will be restored and maybe then my realm will once again be ours."

Hades walked forwards towards the ER. He had no idea where his son was even calling home at the moment, so although he'd stopped the spread of opiates so that Nico just needed to sleep them off, he had no idea where would be a safe place to do that. When mortals got sick, they went to these giant apothecaries to be prodded by followers of Asclepius. Where else better to take him? As soon as he stepped through the doors, a nurse caught sight of them and dashed over, fixing her stethoscope into her ears as she went.

"I am glad you're my son, Nico," Hades said quietly as the nurse got nearer. "I hope one day you can be glad I'm your father."

* * *

><p>Nico gasped and woke up, nearly headbutting Percy as he did so. Percy reeled back, almost spilling his small flask of nectar. It took him a few seconds to realise where he was; the water pounding down on his face made it feel like he was outside during a rainstorm. He was acutely aware that he hurt all over, especially his arm, which was folded under his body and definitely felt like it was broken.<p>

"What… what… huh? Where am I?" Nico said, panting.

"About time you woke up," Percy said. "You scared me to death. You're downstairs at Him's. I kicked his ass for you. You were pushed off the railing, do you remember? Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm fine," Nico said shortly, blinking heavily. "I can count and everything. I'm fine, I just… I was having the weirdest… dream?"

He had never known how he'd got into the ER that night, especially given that all that was left of his little dalliance with the mirror was a tender, pink scar instead of the row of stitches he would have got at the _least_ if he'd got to the ER gushing blood everywhere. If he'd even made it to the ER without bleeding out first; he thought he'd cut himself pretty deep. There had been no reason to play at suicide, after all. Between that and the pills, he had no idea how he made it all the way to the hospital without being DOA. No one knew, not even the staff at the hospital. Just that a man had brought him in and then left, or it might have been a woman, or a giraffe, or an eight-headed alien. ERs were chronically busy places; when someone comes in an emergency you tend to forget about making pleasantries with perfectly well people who brought them there in favour of saving lives.

Had his father… Did he owe his entire life to Hades? After everything?

"Drink this," Percy said, handing Nico the flask.

Nico knocked it back in one gulp without even thinking about it, preoccupied with what he'd just seen. Had he had the tiniest glimmer of consciousness that night, enough to know his father had actually saved him, and it was just that he didn't remember until now?

Nico shook his head as the warmth of the nectar began to spread through his system. Some rescue it had been. As soon as Nico had been conscious and ambulatory he'd swiped a handful of fentanyl lollipops and whatever else looked good from the pharmacy and made a run for it before they could bill him for saving his life. He'd spent the next few days in an opiate haze, his fingers playing with the scar on his throat thoughtfully, but he'd manage to just about stay clear of rock bottom. How, he had no idea. The thoughts hadn't left him but they had certainly quietened down. When the lollipops ran out there had been little choice but to face the world again, and the same cycle had continued only minus Ell. Go out. Get high. Rinse, repeat. That had lasted a couple of weeks, with increasing drug use and drastically reduced food intake (food: what a waste of time) until he'd gone and caught whatever bug had filled his lungs with fluid and given him the surface of Mercury for a body temperature. Then he'd shadow travelled into Percy's apartment accidentally and the rest, as they say, is history.

"Can you walk?" Percy said.

Nico grimaced. "I think so?" He held out a hand and Percy hauled him to his feet. The nectar was working, although he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the feeling of bones beginning to knit together.

Nico had so many questions. They were a jumbled mass inside his head and he put his face into his hands as he tried to make sense of them all. He'd fallen from the railing. Mr Him had been Himeros, a Greek god, and he was defeated. Hades may or may not have stepped in to save him after he'd attempted to kill himself not twenty feet from where he was standing now, even after casting him out. It was all just bizarre. Percy, however, didn't give him much time for these considerations. They could both hear sirens wailing outside and knew that they needed to be gone before the fire department and police turned up.

"Good," Percy said. "Make the most of it. If the Oracle hasn't let her know that we're going to be late for lunch, Rachel might change that."


	11. Chapter 11

**One month. Two updates. **

**I'm not responsible for anyone dying of shock.**

**We're coming out of the other side of a very long and very dark tunnel now. Things are going to start to get better for Nico from now on. It's about damn time, huh? I'm sorry to anyone who may have found the last chapter unnecessarily dark but suicide, to get on my soapbox for a second, is a thing that happens. It's an important issue to talk about; if you ever want to talk, you can PM me.**

**This chapter is lighter, you'll be pleased to know. I had fun writing it.**

**I don't own PJO, nor do I make any money from this.**

**Thank you, as usual, to the wonderful and talented JJDracula without whom this fic would never have been born. I am little more than its midwife, really.**

**You're all too kind to me with your reviews and your favourites, seriously. And to everyone that is reading this and hiding in the background thank you for always being there silently supporting me. I keep up with you anonymously through the hit count but I do like to hear from you now and then so drop me a line. I promise I don't bite — I'm a vegetarian. And although I am a procrastinator extraordinaire, I eventually reply to every signed review. You deserve my time for taking the time.  
><strong>

**I still can't believe that people are actually reading and liking what I write. It's all new and crazy to me. Just wow.**

_**Thank you.**_

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Nico shook his head. He felt numb. The warmth of the nectar was rapidly dwindling and the cold water from the sprinklers soaking him to the skin was worming through to his bones. The bells of the fire alarm were a dim echo in his ears as he stumbled blindly after Percy, tugged along by the wrist.<p>

He looked up from his shoes, blinking slowly at the crowd of damp people huddled on the sidewalk outside of the club. In the vague distance he could hear sirens brewing from several blocks over. It was hard to get the cops to turn up somewhere like Him's but apparently the fire department had less of a choice in the matter.

His feet shuffled and stumbled over the sidewalk with squelching footsteps; Percy was leading him like a toy but right now he couldn't expend the mental energy needed to plot a course anyway. He had to think about the last part of his dream.

Most of it hadn't been news to him. He'd lived it after all. He knew what he had done and he wasn't proud of it but it had probably been the darkest time of his life, darker than even his time with Gaea. He had felt like there were no other options.

That evening he had felt truly alone in the world for the first time. Even after Bianca had died, he'd still been a demigod and his powers had afforded him access to the Underworld and to solace. Admittedly, he'd sought comfort with a psycho, power-hungry ghost but at the time Nico had thought he'd found a friend, an ally, someone who understood him. It had been a replacement for Bianca in a way and he'd felt like he still had _someone_.

After Ell, though, he had just felt like he'd fallen off the edge of the world. There was no one left who cared about him or wanted him around. He was off his face on painkillers and reeling from what Ell had done, but really Ell had been little more than a catalyst.

She had sparked the event but Nico had been fleeing from what had happened deep beneath Rome for a long time. It had driven him to drugs as some kind of talisman, creating a smokescreen between himself and what had happened to try and make it easier to bear. Even now he couldn't sleep without some kind of light on for the gods' sake because it brought back memories of being trapped in the ground. A cheering crowd could cause his legs to liquefy and take him right back to Mimas' cavern, eliciting flashbacks of the demigods who had died at his hands. The noise of any sports arena turned him into a blubbering wreck.

There was barely a single night that went by without some kind of nightmare or night terror, where he'd wake up screaming and clawing the blankets from his sweat-slicked body. On top of all of that, he lived every single day in fear that someone was going to grab him and make him live it all over again. Either that or he'd wake up and find himself still buried, the life he'd lived since he was rescued being scrubbed out like a fragile chalk drawing on the sidewalk as the reality of being back in Mimas' clutches dawned.

No one knew what he'd been through, that was the worst part. There was no one to share his experiences with and that left him completely isolated. He felt both ashamed and _guilty _over what had happened to him. If he'd been more careful, none of it would have happened. He'd been so stupid to get caught in the first place. The uncomfortable weight of the knowledge that he was entirely to blame for what had happened was a millstone around his neck no matter how many times Percy tried to tell him it wasn't his fault.

Sometimes, the worst thing was that he felt like he had never made it back from the cavern, like he had left part of himself down there and would never again be whole.

There had been no other way out for him. He had tried to leave it all behind, but he had been saved by Hades. His _father_ had saved him. Why? It made no sense, not after everything Hades had said to him when he had cast him out. Unless… Hades really was sorry for what he had done, and maybe Nico wasn't so cut off from the world of demigods as he had thought.

The thought sent his head spinning; it was just so contrary to everything that he had come to accept over the years.

His father… didn't completely hate him?

Percy was pulling him through the crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street to Him's. As well as those damp from the club there were new people milling around, the promise of a burning building luring them to the spot to try and catch a glimpse.

"We're going to have to walk. We're never going to get a cab," Percy muttered mostly to himself, drawing himself up to his full height to look up and down the street. He steered them out of the crowd as he did so.

"Of course we are," Nico said, surprised to find that he was actually capable of speaking despite the sheer number of thoughts swirling around inside his skull. It was easier this way, to let Percy distract him. Maybe it was the only way to stop himself losing it.

"I know it sucks but we're wet and both look like we just tumbled out of a boxing ring, so no one in their right mind is going to pick us up," Percy said. He looked down at his bare chest. "And… I'm also in desperate need of a shirt. I can't believe they tore it. That was my favourite shirt."

Nico stopped dead, the ridiculousness of Percy's words piercing through the clamorous thoughts in his head. "You got your shirt torn off by five, count them, _five_, women so hot they made the surface of the sun look like Antarctica. Only you would complain about losing your _favourite shirt_ to that."

Percy grinned. "Okay, so maybe that part was pretty awesome. Although if you tell Annabeth I said that not only will I deny it so hard Bill Clinton will be taking notes but I will make it my life's mission to replace every black piece of clothing you'll ever own with someone bright yellow while you sleep."

"Great, so you're planning to condemn me to a life where it looks like I've got hepatitis," Nico grumbled, pressing forwards again. Percy fell into step beside him. "And besides, telling Annabeth something like that would be a kamikaze mission. You'd see the mushroom cloud five states over." He paused thoughtfully. "Maybe if I did it remotely…"

"Right now you're thinking that I won't be able to find you any canary yellow pants but believe me, I will," Percy threatened darkly, and Nico had no doubt that his cousin would outdo himself to make good on it.

Nico threw up his hands. "Fine. I won't say a word. I'll just let the giant hickeys do all the talking for me. My lips will be sealed. It's just a shame you can't say the same about those monsters…"

Percy rubbed at a particularly large, angry-looking love bite on his collarbone self-consciously. "Yeah… I'm still thinking of a good explanation for that. Do you think she'll buy that I had to fight the Kraken and these are sucker marks from its tentacles?"

Nico snorted. "Sometimes, I wish I loved in a world where that wasn't so ridiculously possible," he grumbled tiredly. Then, on consideration, he added, "Actually, who am I kidding? How boring would that be?"

"Oh, gods, Dullsville," Percy said immediately. "I mean, what would we _do_?"

Nico's stomach chose that moment to clench unpleasantly; Percy's flippant question had touched a nerve. What would he do if he wasn't a demigod? Well, he'd probably be at school right now. He'd probably have friends. A life. His sister. His _mother_. And he definitely wouldn't have been tortured for sport. So much crap could be erased with that little _what if_, that accident of genetics that had made him a god's son rather than mortal.

Although… He'd probably be dead right now, or on his way out at the very least given when he'd been born. He'd never have met Percy or Annabeth or Rachel or any of them. He reached up distractedly to run a hand through his hair and found it already slicked backwards with water.

Sometimes, it was so damn hard to know whether the good outweighed the bad, whether the pros were heavier or lighter than the cons.

Dark thoughts clawed their way from their ooze-filled cesspit in his chest as was their wont to do periodically; previously, this had sent him reaching for a little something to cram them back in. Now he no longer had that, yet another thing in his life that he wasn't sure was good or bad.

Something must have changed in his face as those thoughts reared their ugly heads without him realising it — he hadn't known that his face was that expressive, or that Percy could even pick up on such subtleties — because Percy jumped in and broke the silence that had befallen them almost immediately.

"Anyway, if you do tell Annabeth and she does explode on you you'll have no one to blame but yourself," he said. "Besides, keeping quiet is the least you can do. You owe me. Himeros nearly shot my arm off."

Nico snorted, taking a mental step back from the brink of gloom, again being reminded of just how much he needed this. More than he would have ever admitted. "Come on. That little flesh wound is nearly having your arm shot off?"

"I could see bone!" Percy protested, loudly enough to make passersby stare. Well, more so than they were already staring at the wet, shirtless man having an animated argument with a sodden teenager. "Really, really pointy bone!"

Nico rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic," he said. "Besides, even if the sprinklers weirdly didn't fix the hickeys — and wow, they must have been _seriously_ going at it for them not to have; I don't know whether to congratulate you or get you some kind of tetanus shot — they patched you up. You'reforgetting who took the world's worst swan dive off those railings to get the sprinklers working in the first place."

"Of course they were going at it, they _drink blood,_" Percy said. "They're good at sucking."

Nico quirked an eyebrow at Percy and managed to bring a wry smile to his lips despite himself. He didn't know what it was about Percy but he was so grateful that he was here. Again he was struck by just how much he needed _this_, just aimless nothingness. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was true.

"Okay, _wow_, that came out so wrong," Percy said immediately, slapping a hand across his eyes. "Can we—"

"Yup," Nico said, cutting Percy off. "Don't worry: that has already been added to the list of things I won't be mentioning to Annabeth. You and everyone living in the chunk of city she would have taken with her when she went nuclear after hearing _that _are so welcome."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Fine. On behalf of the _city_, if you waive your right to a parade I'll bake you a thank you cake."

Nico wrinkled his nose and again cocked an eyebrow at Percy.

"On behalf of the city, I'll get my mom to bake you a thank you cake," Percy hastily corrected.

"Better," Nico said. "Unless you've become a pastry chef since I was last around, I'd rather have a cake not a house brick."

"You're exaggerating," Percy said airily. "It was not that bad."

"Tell that to Paul — he's the one who lost a filling," Nico deadpanned in return.

"You're just jealousbecause while you were taking a nap, I created a giant fist of water and punched Himeros through a wall before force-feeding you nectar," Percy countered immediately, shoving Nico lightly. "So you, my friend, can suck on that. Check and mate."

Nico shoved him back, then dodged out of range of Percy's counterattack. "Jerk," he said through lips curved upwards into a smile.

"Runt," Percy returned good-naturedly.

They lapsed into an easy silence for a couple of blocks, each of them instinctively turning their heads from the street every time a vehicle with a siren blazed by them heading towards Him's. The squelching of their shoes was the only thing that punctuated the silence.

Nico descended back into himself, his face set into a frown. Although Percy had helped to hold back the rising flood of misery, he still had plenty to think about. There was so much that didn't make _sense_. It felt like he was trying to do a puzzle and he didn't have all the pieces or a picture to work from or anything. Hades had pulled him from the dressing room at Him's, healed his neck and carried him into the ER.

_Why_?

After everything, it just didn't make any sense. And then his father had said that he was destined for some kind of greatness one day, if only he could kick the drugs first? Why would his father save him from bleeding to death and get him to the hospital, where they'd pumped his stomach and crammed him full of activated charcoal to counteract the pills, only to abandon Nico and leave him to raid the pharmacy and spiral all over again? It was like giving life with one hand and snatching it away with the other instantly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fathom an explanation for it.

"Nico, are you okay?" Percy said suddenly. Nico sensed that Percy had been dying to ask for a while now. "It's just… you seemed pretty freaked out when you woke up. You can talk to me about this stuff, you know?"

Nico sighed, scrubbing a tired hand across his eyes. Despite the nectar his body was still throbbing with pain and he was having to expend so much energy to stop his brain craving pills to dull the ache from winning out. He had so little left to block Percy out as well.

"A couple of months ago…" Nico started, suddenly finding it almost impossible to say the words. He closed his mouth again, chewing on his traitorous tongue. It was one thing to know that he'd tried to kill himself; apparently, it was another thing entirely to actually say the words aloud. "A couple of months ago, I was in a really dark place," he said instead. "I hit rock bottom. There was all this stuff with Ell plus all the other shit I have had to deal with since Gaea and it was just this whole mess that came to a head. I… I tried to, you know. Kill myself." He said the last two words quickly, running them together into one shameful word.

"_What_?" Percy asked in a strangled voice.

Nico had seen the point where the breath had left his cousin's body and his face flushed. He stormed forwards, trying to put as much distance between himself and Percy as possible. This was why he didn't tell anyone. He couldn't take the way people would look at him afterwards, the mixture of pity and fear on Percy's face was like a punch to the gut. He didn't need either of those things; he was still here. Despite everything, he'd overcome the odds.

He was trying his hardest to be honest with Percy about these things because that's what Percy had asked for, what he _deserved, _damn it, but Percy didn't exactly make it easy. He cursed himself for saying anything at all. Why ruin a good moment?

"Nico," Percy called, half jogging to catch up. "Nico, wait. Listen to me, _wait_." He grabbed Nico's arm on the last word, spinning him around. Nico tried to shake him off but Percy wouldn't let him.

"Forget it," Nico told the sidewalk when it became clear that he wasn't going to get free. "Seriously, Percy, forget I said anything. It's not a big deal, okay? It's—"

"_Not a big deal?!" _Percy parroted back incredulously. "You can't drop a bomb like that and tell me it's not a big deal, Nico. This is serious."

Nico closed his eyes. "What else do you want me to do?" he asked softly. "I can scream and cry and fall apart if you want, Percy, but that's not who I am. That's not the way I deal with things. Shit got bad, okay? And I did something stupid, but I'm not planning on doing it again. I've moved on. What else do you want from me?"

Nico felt Percy's grip slacken as his cousin's mouth worked in confusion, so he took the opportunity to break away from Percy and continue on down the street. Again Percy caught up with him, falling in step beside him.

"Nico—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Nico said abruptly. "Just leave it alone, okay? I just dreamed about it, so my head is full enough of it right now."

"It's me, Nico," Percy said. "Just reminding you, it's _me _here. You can talk to me if you want."

"Well, I don't want. I'm _fine_ now," Nico said. "I haven't felt like that since that night; I've moved on."

"Fine," Percy said, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Fine. I get it. But this isn't over. When you're ready to deal with what you just told me I want to help."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Nico muttered. "To be honest… I'm more freaked out about the fact that at the end of my dream, my father appeared and saved my life. I don't even know what that means or if it even actually happened but I'm having a hard enough time keeping it together in my head so… we're back to you dropping it."

"Your father saved you?" Percy asked, his voice sounding distant and conflicted. "He's known where you were for the past couple of months and what you were doing?"

Nico looked at him suspiciously. "Yeah, I guess so. Why do you say it like that?"

"Nothing," Percy said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. He looked around nervously and spotted a cab, so he stuck his thumb and forefinger in his mouth to whistle and waved a hand to flag it down. "We just really need to get to lunch, that's all."

It had taken a lot of manipulation of the Mist on Percy's behalf to convince the cab driver to take them back to Manhattan. They didn't exactly look like good customers. By the end of it, Percy's hand-waving had become so desperately elaborate that, in Nico's opinion, he'd seriously over-egged the freaking pudding, not to mention he probably could have guided sixteen aircraft to land and have directed the entirety of Manhattan's traffic with his gestures by the time he was done.

The cab driver seemed to think that they were commandeering the vehicle on behalf of a classified joint NSA and CIA taskforce set up to rid the world of roosters bioengineered by terrorists to shoot shirt-incinerating laser beams from their eyes and have sufficient intelligence to hack into the Pentagon in three minutes flat.

"I am never letting you provide the backstory again," Nico muttered darkly to Percy. "I mean, _seriously_? What if he tells someone about the two _agents_ he met today? They'll lock him in the nuthouse."

"I didn't know what I was saying. It all happened so fast, okay?" Percy said defensively. "And besides, are we or are we not getting a ride?"

"It happened so _fast_?" Nico echoed scornfully, folding his arms. "To me, it happened in slow motion. Like a car wreck. Or, better yet, a train wreck. I kept thinking you were done and then nope, there was more."

"It worked!" Percy said exasperatedly.

"I bet Hecate nearly killed herself laughing over what her Mist was being used for," Nico said. "Which is pretty damn impressive given that she's immortal."

"Maybe I gave him the idea for a cool novel?" Percy suggested hopefully. "Or a screenplay. I could have made him rich."

Nico patted Percy's arm condescendingly. "You just keep telling yourself that, Perce. Whatever helps you make it through."

Silence settled over them again as they drove back towards Manhattan. Nico rested his chin on his hand and gazed out the window, watching the grey concrete jungle slowly and haltingly grind by as the cab got snagged in traffic over and over again.

His hair was beginning to curl slightly at the nape of his neck as it dried and it was tickling him. He irritably rammed hair that was falling forwards as it dried out of his face and chewed on his lip. No matter what, his brain kept dwelling on the knowledge that his father had been the one to save him two months ago. He just couldn't let that go. It _meant_ something — it had to.

The after-effects of coming down lingered on in his system and he rested his pounding head against the cool glass of the window. Without the adrenaline and nerves caused by being in proximity to Him's, he was back to an achy, nauseated, vertigo-suffering mess. Granted, it was getting better but his body was going to take a while to learn to properly live without the fun substances he'd been tossing down his throat for the past couple of years.

Despite himself, he felt his eyelids droop as the monotony of the city sliding by almost hypnotised him. His eyes had just closed fully when the cab stopped and he heard the door open.

Percy was hopping out and Nico blinked hard, swiping at his eyes and doing the same. They were in front of Percy's apartment building again, back to where this whole mess started. Nico's eyes wandered up the side of the building to the fire escape and it suddenly dawned on him that even in the few hours since he'd been standing up there looking down things had changed so much.

He was still drug-free, sure, but now he knew that his time with Ell, which he had cherished as the sole good spot in his personal history, was nothing more than an elaborate lie concocted by a half-mad god of lust. On the other hand, he knew that his father might actually still care about him. And he knew that, despite everything, Percy was willing to throw himself in front of a bullet (_literally_) for him.

The idea wracked him with guilt because he had no idea what he had done to deserve that, but it also gave him a tiny spark of warmth in an otherwise cold and desolate landscape.

Why did life have to be so _complicated_?

"I thought we were going to lunch with Rachel?" Nico asked.

"We are," Percy said, nodding. They moved to dart quickly across the street in between the traffic towards Percy's building. "But you know the kinds of restaurants Rachel picks. It'll be somewhere fancy with a stupid no shoes, no shirt, no service rule. Which is so dumb because I swear the best food I ever had was when I sailed down with Annabeth to the Bahamas and we found this restaurant right on the beach and I wasn't wearing shoes _or _a shirt and they didn't care."

Nico smiled, and it must have looked genuine because Percy actually blinked at him in shock as he let them in to the lobby of his building.

"What?" Percy asked. "Have I got something on my face?"

"No," Nico said. "I'm just imagining you trying to get around the maître d' of one of Rachel's restaurants without a shirt. Fairly sure we'd end up arrested."

Percy grinned, pausing with his finger about to hit the elevator's call button. "Is that a challenge?"

Nico rolled his eyes and batted Percy's hand aside, stabbing the call button. "As fun as that sounds, I'd rather not spend the night in jail. Let's get you pretty."

Percy plucked at the shirt Nico was wearing. "It wouldn't kill you to do the same," he said.

"These are _your _clothes, Percy," Nico reminded him as the elevator arrived. "They say way more about you than me."

They blew through Percy's apartment in under ten minutes, changing out of their wet clothes, dragging on button-down shirts and forcing a comb through their hair. They were in and out so quickly that Nico didn't even have time to comment on the pale yellow shirt Percy had tossed in his face after fishing it from the bottom of the closet. It had appeared a random selection, although Nico was sure Percy had picked yellow on purpose. Then they were back in the elevator again and heading down to the cab again, where the driver was idling at the kerb.

"I guess the CIA and the NSA get top quality service," Nico remarked dryly as they crossed the street and slid back into the cab.

"Sure we do," Percy said. "We're saving the country."

"From roosters."

"_Bioengineered _roosters," Percy corrected immediately. "Come on, dude. Keep up."

"Oh, I'm sorry; did leaving out that one piece of information make the story completely ludicrous?" Nico asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "My bad."

It was only a short ride to the restaurant Rachel and Percy had arranged to meet at. When they got there, Percy tried to pay the driver but was waved off with assurances that playing a part in saving the country was payment enough. Percy, looking guilt-stricken, shrouded some money in Mist just long enough to slip it in through the crack in the driver's window unnoticed as he got out of the cab. It fell into the driver's lap but he paid it no attention as he drove away.

"I can't believe you paid him," Nico grumbled. "He was giving you stuff for _free, _Percy. Free stuff is good, remember?"

"Only because I lied to him," Percy said glumly. "Think about all the gas he burned getting us here."

"Your morals make me tired," Nico said, his face creasing into a petulant pout as he rolled back the sleeves of Percy's shirt so he could see his hands and finally took a decent look at himself in the window of a parked car. "And your clothes make me blind."

"I think that shirt looks good on you," Percy said mildly, barely concealing a grin.

"I _knew _you picked this on purpose!" Nico cried accusatorily, jabbing a finger at him. "Bastard. _Tasteless _bastard."

"I'm shocked and appalled that you would accuse me of such a thing!" Percy said, his smile widening as he steered Nico by the elbow off the street and towards the restaurant. "Now, smile. This place looks swanky. We're going to have to charm our way in."

"Great," Nico snorted. "So we're screwed, then?"

Despite Percy's best efforts at looking like he had money and belonged there, and despite saying that they were there to see Rachel Dare, the guy standing at the front of the restaurant to greet patrons turned up his nose at them and refused to let them in. It might have been the wrinkles in both of their shirts, or the fact that Nico was glaring holes through his chest, or the hickey Percy's collar didn't quite cover, or the fact that the nectar hadn't fully healed all of Nico's wounds, or Nico falling out of Percy's jeans despite them being rolled up and cinched in with a belt Percy had had to put holes in especially, but whatever it was the guy had obviously taken offence.

He was shooing them — actually shooing them — with a menu back towards the door when Rachel came stumbling and tripping over, almost ending up with a platter of appetizers down her front as she came within a hairsbreadth of colliding with a waiter, waving at them. The guy still looked disgusted until Rachel rammed a folded bill in his top pocket, at which point he broke into a smile and handed Percy the menu he'd been shooing them with, drawing their attention to the veal.

Nico gave him the stink-eye as he walked past, the effect of which was somewhat ruined when Rachel almost knocked him over with a hug that he was fairly sure had cracked about nine ribs.

"Thank the gods you're okay," she said quietly, still refusing to let go despite Nico floundering desperately. "After what I saw, after everything, I didn't... yeah. Hold still and let me hug you. All of your scrawny wriggling is making your bones poke into me."

"I'm sorry we're a little bit, kind of… late," Percy said, wincing pre-emptively. "We—"

"No problem," Rachel said tartly. "What's _two hours _between friends?" She glared at Percy. "Am I going to have to get a wristwatch surgically attached to you? Because if you've got enough cash, they'll operate on _any_thing."

"It wasn't our fault!" Percy said. "I promise. And I seriously mean that this time. We sort of got into trouble."

Rachel sighed. "Of course you did. I should have known. Big T or a little T?"

"Big T," Percy said. "Biiiiiiig T, believe me. We… kind of had a small run in with Himeros that may or may not have ended in major property damage and the fire department being called."

Rachel blinked, looked Percy up and down and then closed her eyes tiredly, tucking a hand into her hip and using the other to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Naturally. I should have known when you said you and Nico had some errands to run before lunch you meant getting into a fistfight with the _god of freaking lust_. Why did I expect anything else from Percy Jackson? Are you okay?"

"We didn't die?" Percy tried hopefully.

"Fine, I guess I'll take that," Rachel said. "But if you're going to keep going out and not playing nice with gods we're going to have to get you a leash or something. Also, this is so not fair just so you know. It sucks because now I don't get to put my steel-toed orthopaedics on to kick your asses for leaving me stuck with—" She broke off suddenly, choking on the next word and stumbling to a halt as her eyes flicked down to the top of Nico's head.

Nico, who hadn't reciprocated the initial hug and was standing frozen after the command to stop fighting it as Rachel had her conversation with Percy, said, "Rachel... I can't breathe. And you're still hugging me. Aren't you kind of making a scene?"

Rachel snorted and broke the hug. "Ugh, as _if_," she said dismissively. "_This _would be making a scene." She balled a fist and punched Nico, hard, in the shoulder; he yelped in surprise. Diners turned to stare. "Don't you ever do that to us again!" Rachel demanded authoritatively, her nostrils flaring.

"Ow!" Nico said, rubbing his arm. "Hey, first you break my ribs, now my shoulder?!"

"You scared the crap out of us," Rachel said, glowering at him and folding her arms. "So the least you can do is shut up and take it like a man."

Nico opened his mouth to say something but he saw the fear swirling behind the indignation in Rachel's face and closed it again, feeling guilty. He hadn't meant to scare people. In all honestly, he had never considered that he would — why would anyone care that he was gone?

"Sorry," he muttered instead, looking to the floor.

"Good," Rachel said. Her shoulders relaxed and she unfolded her arms. Then she reached out and flicked Nico's ear.

"OW!" Nico yelped again, slapping a hand to the side of his face. "What was that one for?"

"For saying I was making a scene," Rachel said airily. "I'm a Dare, di Angelo. We don't _make scenes_."

Nico wanted to tell her that their current situation would indicate the opposite, and ask her what the fuck flying a helicopter and almost crashing into the middle of a godly warzone aged sixteen was if not making a scene, but she had her fingers poised ready for another flick. Instead, he just untucked hair from behind his smarting ear and let it provide the little protection it could.

"What, no smartass comeback?" Rachel asked expectantly.

Nico smiled with toothy menace at her. "Nothing I could say in public," he said sunnily, his voice completely contradictory to the expression on his face.

What was he feeling right now? It… actually didn't suck. Huh. Was this what normal felt like?

Rachel snatched the menu from Percy's hand and swiped at Nico's head with it, but he ducked out of the way, dancing back into the depths of the restaurant. "Hey, can we quit this game now?" he asked, raising his hands in surrender and actually managing half a laugh. "You're meant to be nice to me. It's Annabeth that tries to kill me every time I open my mouth."

"Can you blame her? Annabeth is a very smart woman in many, many ways," Rachel said darkly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Come on, guys, how about we go and sit down?" Percy said, walking over to them and shaking his head. "First of all, I'm starving. Secondly, I'm not sure how much longer your tip is going to keep us in this place." The staff were starting to glare now and diners were shaking their heads at them. "How much did you give him, anyway?" he asked Rachel quietly as they made their way to the back of the restaurant with Nico a little way in front.

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know. I thought it was a twenty but he really hopped to so maybe it was a fifty and I didn't realise. Whoops."

"A fifty?! For a tip like that, _I'll _be your server this afternoon," Percy said, blinking in shock.

"No offence, Percy, but I'd appreciate a server who didn't disappear in between the fish and the entrée to kill a couple of monsters," Rachel said, shaking her head. "No, no, no. I don't think it would work out."

"You don't know that," Percy said defensively. "It could work."

"Yeah, I do," Rachel said. "And I don't even need to be the Oracle for that. You just look like trouble. Take this afternoon, for instance. Left to your own devices for five minutes and you're facing down a god. I'm not even going to be able to get a Coke off you before you have to kill something. But that's okay. That's life. Besides, are you really arguing to save your non-existent career as a waiter?"

Percy was saved from arguing by Nico jumping into the conversation.

"Where are we sitting?" he asked, turning around to face them. They were at the back of the restaurant now, with a swathe of empty tables separating them from a sparse late lunch crowd. There was only one table laid up and it was occupied by a man sitting with his back to them; the others were covered in bare tablecloths and it didn't look like they were in use.

Rachel hesitated. "Uh… over there," she said in a slightly strangled voice, pointing to the occupied table. Nico had jolted her back to reality and it was clear she would have much rather reality hadn't come knocking. Nico knew that feeling well. She had slid the braid her hair had miraculously been tamed into over her shoulder, Nico noted, and was playing with the end nervously. Her throat worked up and down and she was chewing on her lower lip.

Percy wouldn't meet his eyes either but was looking at the floor guiltily and apologetically.

"But… there's someone sitting there," Nico said, his eyes sliding slowly between Rachel and Percy. "What's going on, you guys? Seriously, tell me. You're freaking me out."

Both Percy and Rachel looked like they'd been temporarily struck dumb, wearing nearly identical, torn expressions on their face. The hairs on the back of Nico's neck stood up when he looked at them. Something was seriously wrong here and he felt like he was the last one to know, as usual.

"Tell me," he said, and his voice cracked in a way he wanted to kick himself for. "Please?" No point in trying to hide how pathetic he was now, he might as well go for broke.

"I think we should talk," said a voice from behind him.

It froze Nico's blood and dried out his mouth. It was a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again and yet…

"Father?" he asked in a strangled whisper, still not turning around even though he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's me, Nico," Hades said. He was dressed in black suit with silver pinstripes, blindingly shiny patent leather shoes and a red silk tie over a black shirt. A platinum watch chain dangled from one of his pockets and he was fiddling with a black fedora, spinning it round and round by the brim.

"_Why_?" Nico choked out.

"Why?" Hades echoed, a perplexed expression furrowing a brow the colour of souring milk and knitting his eyebrows. "I've done some terrible things, Nico. Things I wish I hadn't done. I—"

"Not you," Nico snapped, still keeping his back to his father and jabbing a finger at Percy and Rachel, who were rapidly blurring in front of him through a pearlescent curtain of tears. "_Them._"

Rachel looked as if she might cry also; she tried to speak a couple of times but failed, tugging on her hair more vigorously instead.

"Nico…" Percy started.

"You know what, I changed my mind," Nico said, throwing up his hands and slashing the air with them, cutting Percy off violently. "I don't want to hear it. I trusted you. _Both _of you. And now I find out you're whispering behind my back to get _him_ involved? Was Annabeth in on it as well? Might as well make it a full house, huh? I just…" He balled his hands into fists; his fingers were tingling and it was spreading up his hands and arms. Bile had risen in his throat and he suddenly couldn't say anything else.

The walls of the restaurant suddenly seemed to shift, closing in on him. The gaze of the diners seemed to burn like laser beams, even though they'd all gone back to their meals the second Hades had stood up as if his presence had slid up a window of tinted glass made of Mist.

"Nico, please," Rachel said desperately, her voice thick with emotion. "Please don't. I'm sorry, okay? We should have told you he'd be here, I know. We _should_. But we didn't think you'd come and, well… he's your _dad_. And he has things to say to you. We just thought it would help you. We only want what's best for you. We aren't trying to hurt you here."

"No?" Nico asked softly. "Well, you could have fooled me, Rachel. This seems like a lot of trouble to go to if you don't want to hurt someone. You know what wouldn't have hurt me? Just the three of us hanging out. Having lunch. Just me trying to get back to being a tiny little bit of normalcy and not having to deal with… everything. This isn't _helping, _it's…" He couldn't find the words for the sheer opposite of help this entire situation was bringing, but that was fine because the oxygen was rapidly vanishing from the room and he wasn't sure he could have drawn enough breath to say it, anyway.

"This is not their fault, Nico," Hades said. "I wanted to see you. When you shadow travelled, I knew you were back and I knew where you were. I asked them for this."

Nico still hadn't turned to look at Hades. "You saw me two months ago," Nico bit out, shrugging Hades' hand off his shoulderHadeHh. "Or did you think I wouldn't remember you carrying me out of that club and then dumping me in the ER?"

"He... wait what?" Rachel asked, her face creasing in confusion. Her eyes turned to Hades; the green began to crackle with dissent. "When you came to me, you told me you hadn't seen Nico since you cast him out," she said. "What is Nico saying? That you've known for two months where he is and what's going on and you've just done nothing? Sat on your hands and let us all freak out some more over him being missing?"

"I said Nico hadn't seen _me_ since I cast him out; the last time I saw him, he was unconscious," Hades said smoothly, waving a hand. "And I don't appreciate your tone, _Oracle_," he added menacingly, emphasising the last word to remind Rachel what had happened to her predecessor.

"Yeah, he's known what was going on and where I was for two months now," Nico said. "Two whole months and he just sat there on his throne and twiddled is fucking thumbs. I mean, what's two months given that he's the whole reason I vanished for a couple of _years_ anyway, right?"

Shadows swirled around Hades; the floor trembled, sending glasses hanging upside down above the bar shivering and rattling against each other. The diners ate on, oblivious, as plaster dust from the ceiling hissed down onto their plates.

"I would advise you not to speak to me like that," Hades said in a silky tone. "Son or not, you will address me with respect."

Nico finally turned; seeing his father for the first time since that day in his throne room was like taking a punch to the solar plexus. The air was driven out of him and his fast twisted into a mask of fury. How did Hades have the audacity to stand there and pontificate after everything he had done? All the ways he had tried to destroy Nico and now he wanted respect?

"Respect is earned," Nico said savagely. "What have you done to deserve it after everything?"

The glasses began to sway more violently; one edged its way off the end of the rack and shattered on the floor. Picture swung crooked on the walls and the building groaned around them.

"Sure, bring down the whole place one everyone's heads," Nico goaded. Both he and Hades were bristling now, jaws set in an almost identical manner. "That will make you look so much better, when we're all crushed under rubble."

Hades was about to speak, but Percy cut him off.

"Nico, stop," Percy said, stepping in between the two of them. "Both of you, _stop. _How is this helpful? We're here to try and work out all the crap between you. That is important. So let's just sit down—"

"I've lost my appetite," Nico said, turning on his heel and marching back towards the front of the restaurant. "Thanks, guys. Real great pep talk," he called back over his shoulder.

Rachel sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, gods. That could not have gone worse, could it?"

"I don't know," Percy said. "We could have been smeared in meat juice and spent the whole thing fighting off some hungry lions escaped from a zoo at the same time."

Rachel didn't smile. "What are you waiting for?" she said instead. "Go after him." Percy turned to leave but Rachel grabbed his arm. "Not you. _Him_," she clarified, pointing at Hades.

Hades blinked at her. "You dare to order _me_—"

Green fireworks exploded to life over Rachel's head, showering the floor with fizzling sparks that jumped on the marble like scattered emeralds. The display cut Hades off. "You wanted reconciliation," she said stonily. "You came to me and said that you wanted to get back in Nico's life. How are you going to do that standing there? Go and find him and talk to him. He deserves way more than that, but that will be a start."

Hades looked the Oracle up and down briefly, a slightly malignant look crossing his face, but then he bowed his head and walked past them silently.

"Make sure he gets back to Percy's apartment okay," Rachel called after the departing god. "He's not ready to be out there by himself yet."

Hades turned at the door and examined her again for a long time before nodding, placing his hat on his head and walking out into the street.

Percy let out a long breath. "I thought he was going to incinerate us," he said. "I can't believe you got away with that."

"He's not all bad," Rachel said, shrugging. "Mostly bark and hardly any bite. Usually. If you skip over the whole Oracle/mummy mess. Which is kind of tough for me but I do my best. He really wants to do the right thing by Nico this time as well, so that helps."

"We screwed up," Percy said, his shoulders sagging away from his ears. "Seriously, we really screwed up, Rachel. When Hades said that he was ready to help... I thought it would be good for Nico. I thought it would make things better if they could just sit and have lunch and talk... Maybe he would have given Nico his powers back and Nico could have felt connected to things again, you know? It just messed everything up, though. This was a bad idea."

"We don't know that yet," Rachel replied gently, putting a hand on Percy's arm. "It might still help. Besides, how were we meant to know that Hades had been holding out on us for two months?"

"I don't know how I thought Nico would react," Percy said glumly. "It was so stupid to think this would be some kind of happy reunion. I mean, it's _Hades _we're talking about here. After what he did to Nico... Nico is going to hate us."

"Give him time," Rachel said. "He's got a lot to deal with right now. We're doing everything we can. We're here for him and that's all that matters."

"Is it enough?" Percy asked helplessly.

Rachel sighed and put an arm around Percy, leading him to the table that Hades had been sitting on. She opened the menu she had snatched from it earlier and opened it, placing it in front of him. "All we can do is hope so," she said.

"Are we really going to sit here and eat lunch and wait?" Percy said, staring blankly at the menu. "It seems... wrong"

"You're not used to waiting around for things to happen, that's all," Rachel said. "You're more used to making things happen yourself." She tapped the menu repeatedly with her finger. "Get some food in you. If you fought off Himeros, you must be starving. Just don't order the veal. He was just trying to get you to be terribly gauche and embarrass yourself, I think. Plus, you know. It's seriously cruel."

Percy blinked at her. "I don't know what that means but okay? And I don't want to eat a deer, anyway. It might be roadkill."

"Venison is deer," Rachel said. "Veal is baby cow."

"Baby cow?" Percy said, curling a lip. "Wow."

"Yeah," Rachel said. "Exactly."

The waiter came. Rachel translated the menu from poncey to English for Percy; Percy asked if they'd make him a hamburger, at which the waiter nearly swallowed his tongue before glancing at Rachel's commanding nod and saying that he'd see what he could get the kitchen to do.

"I still feel bad that we're going to sit here and have lunch while Nico is out there with his dad going through the gods only know what," Percy said.

"He's safe," Rachel said. "Hades won't let anything happen to him. And maybe it needs to be just the two of them, anyway. There's so much they have to work out."

"Understatement of the year," Percy muttered.

They lapsed into silence for a while, lost in thoughts. Percy stared at the tablecloth, which had a higher threadcount than his sheets.

"How is he?" Rachel asked eventually, unscrewing the top of the salt shaker and dumping the contents on the table so she could trace patterns in it with her finger. "And I mean... with everything, you know?"

Percy sighed. "How much has the Oracle shown you?"

Rachel hesitated. "That depends. How much has Nico told you?"

"Come on, Rachel. It's you and me here. Are we really going to play this game?" Percy said tiredly.

"You said he was mad when he found out that you'd been to see me," Rachel said with a fake-casual, one-shouldered shrug. "I don't want to... tread on his toes. I don't want him to be mad at me. He's got enough going on. And anyway, I can't spill his guts for him. It's not up to me. He has to do that in his own time. You know that."

Percy ran a hand across his face, partly to hide a yawn and partly to give him time to think. He was exhausted, tired down to his bones. "Honestly, Rachel... that was the most normal I've seen him," he told the Oracle. "You know, he just... I think he needs normal stuff. People. Human interaction. I think when he's around other people, it's easier for him. He doesn't have time to think so much, to mope, to brood... or whatever he does. And just then, when he got angry… maybe that was the first time he's really felt much of anything since he came back? I don't know. He won't let me in. What am I meant to do?"

"Eat your burger," Rachel said, dusting salt off her hands. "And then we'll go from there."


	12. Chapter 12

**It's been a long time. Too long. For that I'm sorry but this chapter is firstly kind of emotionally charged, which made it difficult to write; secondly, it did not play ball and at one point I was ten minutes away from setting fire to it in my kitchen sink and starting over because it would not behave the way I wanted it to and things nearly got messy; and thirdly, it's, well, over 15,000 words long. I actually wrote less for some of my final papers in university than I've written below for you wonderful, lovely, gorgeous people. I didn't plan on it being such a beast but then again, I didn't plan anything about this fic, so...**

**Okay, so here it is. Chapter 12 at last. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far and despite everything (i.e. me moving slower than a snail) — thank you one and all for your kind reviews and words of support. Getting reviews scares me, as in full-blown panic attack scares me, but once I find the (liquid) courage to face the fact that people are reading the stuff I write (and actually enjoying it!) I do feel very warm and glow-y. So thank you all for that feeling.**

**My thanks, as always, to JJDracula, without whom none of us would be here and who is due a sainthood for the patience she has had with me. She is also responsible for the artwork now attached to this story (I'm a Luddite and it has taken my twelve chapters to figure out how to do it). More thanks and kudos to general zargon, to whom I owe **_**"Nico knew that Percy was going to do his best to help him, and Percy's best was pretty much awesomeness personified"**_**.**

**Thank you, again, for just being awesome.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Nico nearly flattened a man on the way out of the restaurant. The man started to shout at him but Nico turned sharply on his heel to face him; it was almost as if a thundercloud that was roiling around his head leapt to his command and spewed forth a lightning bolt. The man was basically struck dumb, turned to a gibbering wreck by the ferocity of Nico's gaze. His mouth opened and closed ineffectually before Nico's nostrils flared and he spun back towards the street.<p>

Nico did _not _have time for that shit.

Setting his jaw, he stepped off the curb. A horn blared; a car swerved around him but he didn't care. He heard the door of the restaurant open behind him and wanted to get as far away from the place and his father as he possibly could, even if that meant dicing with death on Madison Avenue.

He glanced over his shoulder and took a look at his father putting his hat on his head and fiddling nervously with his cufflinks as he scoped out the crowd, searching for Nico. Nico's head snapped back around towards the road and freedom; he took another step. Brakes squealed and tyres screeched, smearing black marks onto the asphalt behind a cab that had come to a dead halt just inches from Nico. The cab driver, eyes bulging in shock, body straining against the taut seatbelt, had gone pale. He took a few seconds to get over the shock before powering down the window and leaning out to yell.

Nico glared at him; the airbags in the cab exploded, showering the driver with smoke and white powder. The cab driver's intended yell yielded to stunned choking and spluttering. Nico blinked. Had he done that? He looked down at his hand uncertainly, swallowed, and then put it in his pocket to hide the fact that it was shaking. Traffic was beginning to pile up behind the cab now; cars were swinging out into the flow of traffic to a cacophony of angry horn blasts.

"Nico!" his father shouted above the noise of the traffic, having spotted him. Almost becoming roadkill apparently lacked subtly. "Nico, where are you going? Get back here this instant. All I want is a chance to talk."

Nico could feel his heart trying to dash itself to pieces on his sternum as he took another step into the traffic; he caught a blur of an obscene gesture as yet another car had to swerve to avoid him, coming close to clipping a delivery van as it veered. He had felt a tug as the car went past; he looked down to find the wing mirror had left a smear of grime on the front of Percy's shirt.

He didn't care. He so didn't care. If he had to vault his way over the top of these cars he would, just so he could put distance between himself and his father. His father wanted to talk? What was there to talk about, exactly? Nico could not think of a single conversation he wanted to have with his father right now. He had to get away. From Percy and Rachel, too. How could they have done this to him? After everything, knowing all that they did, why would they betray him so badly? Did they hate him this much?

Apparently so.

The knowledge of that ripped the lid off the crate that he had tried to force his addiction into to keep it at bay, even though he thought he'd nailed the damn thing shut. It had been unleashed all over again and it was like the Hydra, more dangerous and even deadlier simply because he'd tried to kill it. It was snarling within him, partly the reason his hands were trembling, and he could feel a bubble of panic rising in his chest as he fought to breathe. His stomach somersaulted unpleasantly and for a minute he thought he was about to lose his (total lack of) lunch.

If he could ditch his father he would be alone in Manhattan once again, just like he had been this morning before Derek (gods, had that only been this morning?), and he knew so many places where he could easily go and find a little something to take the edge off. Would that be so bad, just taking one more tiny little pill in order to blunt the whirling buzz saw that had buried itself in his body the moment he'd discovered that the two people he trusted the most had sold him out?

What could it hurt?

Tomorrow was another day. He could start again tomorrow when he was thinking clearer. He hesitated for another split second and took yet another foolhardy step into the street. No. That wouldn't be so bad. Not given the circumstances.

"NICO!" Hades roared from the sidewalk.

Nico felt a wave of power blast over and around him, ruffling his hair, plastering his overlarge shirt to his back, and then it was almost as if a bomb had gone off. The tyres blew on the cars heading towards him, sending them careening out of control. The hoods of the all the vehicles popped open, slamming into the windshields and spider-webbing the safety glass.

Cars slewed sideways, coming to rest mere inches from Nico, crunching into each other with the agonised shriek of rending metal. The dull thud and crumpling of a thousand empty beer cans being mashed under a thousand booted feet punctuated the air. One car mounted the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street to the one Hades was standing on and clipped a fire hydrant, sending an arc of water high up into the air. Nico blinked in shock, his mouth falling open as he looked at the destruction his father had wrought.

Then Hades was suddenly at Nico's elbow with a tight grip on Nico's upper arm. Nico looked down at the long, pale fingers totally encircling his bicep and felt his heart deflate as if it had been punctured. There went his plans of freedom, his plot to escape..._everything._

"You could have been killed!" Hades hissed, swinging Nico around to face him and not letting go of his son's arm. In fact, the grip got tighter. "What were you _thinking?!"_

Anger ignited deep within Nico. His eyes sparked with it. "Believe me, I wasn't trying to get myself killed," he snarled, tearing his arm out of Hades' grasp and angrily wrenching his shirt back to normal. "I mean, then I'd have to be down in the Underworld and gods forbid you might actually have to spend some time with me."

Hades lips almost vanished into a thin line.

Nico threw his arms wide. "What's the matter, does the truth hurt?" he demanded. "Can't take hearing it from someone you never wanted to see again a couple of years ago? Want to blast me into oblivion?"

"Nico, you are embarrassing both me and yourself," Hades said, his voice like silk-sheathed steel. "I suggest—"

"Oh, you _suggest_ do you?" Nico said, sneering at his father. "Well, that's new. I mean, you've never suggested before. You've ordered and commanded and demanded but don't try and tell me you've ever _suggested _anything in your life. You sure didn't _suggest _that I was banished from the Underworld and cut off from all my powers, did you? But, if we are _suggesting _things, then I _suggest _you get bent."

Hades was practically vibrating with anger, Nico noted, but right at that moment he didn't care that the asphalt was cracking under his father's feet like the skin of a pig at a luau. He had just had it with caring about pretty much anything. All it ever did was land him in shit. With Ell, just now with Percy and Rachel, who he had thought cared enough not to ambush him with something like this... Caring about things was just overrated and right now he didn't even care about not ending up as a grease spot on the street because giving a crap had just never worked out for him.

"I _suggest,_" Hades continued frostily, clearly trying to rein in his temper, "that we go somewhere quieter, where there are fewer witnesses and where fewer mortal law enforcement are likely to turn up. That is all."

Nico lost the wind from his sails. He'd been prepared for a much bigger suggestionthan that. "Oh," he said, dragging a distracted hand through his hair and cocking his head to better determine how far away the approaching sirens were. "Oh. Yeah. We... probably should try not to get arrested."

The ground stopped shaking and Hades straightened his tie, drawing himself up to his full height. "You mean _they _probably shouldn't try to arrest _us_," he said curtly, so confidently that Nico almost smiled despite himself.

Maybe, just maybe, there were rare occasions where it paid to be the child of an all-powerful god. Not many, but they did exist.

"This way," Hades said, striding across the now-gridlocked and, beyond the pile-up, eerily calm Madison Avenue. Drivers had started to stumbled from the wreckage of their cars; some were even bleeding but Hades paid no attention, sweeping past them to take East 79th Street and heading towards Fifth Avenue.

The change in Hades from the anger inside the restaurant was slightly scary but, well, that was his father in a nutshell. More ups and downs than a fiddler's elbow or all the rides in Six Flags put together. Nico looked at Hades' retreating back, gnawing on his lip. He felt like he had little choice but to follow — it was either that or stand there and face the music as the jaywalker who had clogged Madison Avenue with a pile of twisted metal formerly known as cars.

Still, he hesitated for a moment; standing impotently in the middle of the street he hovered, looking between the restaurant and at his father's retreating back.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, shaking his head and lunging after Hades before he could change his mind. He eventually managed to catch up with his father. As they walked, he kept sneaking glances up at him, but Hades' face was carefully passive, betraying nothing.

They walked in silence until they emerged on Fifth Avenue before crossing the street (using the crosswalk, having learned from past experience) towards Central Park, entering using the pedestrian entrance. Nico was desperately scrabbling for things to say to try and fill the silence, but he couldn't think of anything he actually wanted to say to his father. Well, nothing polite, anyway.

To Nico, the silence gaped toothlessly between them but it didn't seem to faze Hades, who strode along with the air of someone who didn't have a care in the world. However, Nico could see the tension held in his father's shoulders, the jut of his jaw, the way his arms weren't fully at his sides but held out a little way, the fingers spasming occasionally, and knew that Hades wasn't as care-free as he was trying to make out.

They entered Central Park and Nico was surprised to see his father unwind a little. Hades visibly relaxed after stepping under the shade of the canopy of trees above them; although the tension was still there it was greatly diminished.

"Every time I come here I'm reminded how much I hate this city," Hades said, shaking his head. He took off his hat and unfurled a meticulously-pressed crimson silk handkerchief from his top pocket and mopped his brow with it. His eyes kept darting around, taking in the sights and the sounds, wincing every now and then when something particularly noisy penetrated the quieter aura of the Park.

"No one asked you to visit," Nico muttered.

Hades glared at him, black eyes suddenly no longer roving around distracted and boring into Nico's instead. "Why are you so intent on making me angry?" he asked. "It's almost as if you _want _me to do something else I'll regret. I am up here for _you_. I find it difficult but there is no other reason for me to be here but you. Why try and goad me into being a worse father than I've already been by acting this way?"

Nico held up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me. Don't get angry because I've learned to expect you to suck. That's all on you."

Hades stopped. Again the concrete beneath his feet crackled and popped open, fissures slithering their way through the path towards Nico. The trees around them moaned and shivered; dogs in the background began to howl.

"Look, if we keep this up, Manhattan is going to end up under the East River and the Hudson by the time we're done talking," Nico snapped. "How can you blame me for feeling this way, after what happened?"

Hades took a deep breath in through his nostrils and let it out through his mouth. He looked like he was chewing on a wasp but he did manage to swallow his anger. The ground stopped trembling.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. My behaviour has been less than exemplary, I will admit that. Perhaps I should not get angry when I am told the truth. You are right — that is not what I am here to do. I am here to make amends. Although… sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better if this city just drowned. It makes me wonder why I accepted a throne hovering so far above it. I know my brothers and the other Olympians are quite attached, literally, and seem to get a thrill out of how _alive _this place is but it just… It gets too much. This park makes things… a little easier. It's insulated. And yet… it makes me think that maybe my brothers were right to give the Underworld to us. Perhaps we're not made to be up here."

"_We_?" Nico demanded pointedly, adding a cynical scoff. "Sure, I mean, you haven't seen me for a couple of years, the worst years of my life, by the way, but yeah. _We_. And anyway, who the hell are you to decide where and how I should live my life, huh? Even if you hadn't decided to toss me out like garbage, I'm half mortal. I'm not _like _you. This is where I belong. I _like _it here."

Hades looked directly at Nico. "I have already apologised for that mistake, Nico," he said. "I showed poor judgement. The poorest. I don't think I have ever or ever will again make a mistake so large. You are my son and that wasn't enough for me. I am ashamed of that."

Nico really wished he couldn't feel the sincerity in his father's words, because it really fucking sucked. He wanted to be mad at his dad so badly. He wanted to yell and scream at him, risk instant immolation by taking a swing at him, even, but hearing such a heartfelt apology from one of the reigning champions of never apologising was a gigantic spanner in those works.

"Why?" Nico asked, wrapping his arms around his body and staring at his father intently. People were tutting and having to skirt around him as they made their way through the park but they were free to take a long walk off a short cliff, preferably sooner rather than later, as far as he was concerned.

Hades' brow creased in consternation. "Why?" he asked perplexedly. "You mean you don't feel it? All of these mortals in one place, living out their lives… all I see is the paperwork that will come at the end of it all. You don't see this? The jumper under the subway train, the woman who steps off the curb too soon because she's on one of those infernal cellular phones, the stabbed mugging victim…

"They're all careening towards death, towards _us_. There are floors and floors of people stacked on top of one another in these ridiculous sky-scraping buildings, so tall we Olympians would have once considering them hubris and torn them down with earthquakes and hurricanes and lightning, and they're all _dying_. Naturally. Unnaturally. Messily. Peacefully. They say this city has a pulse, a beating heart, yet if it does it is in its death throes. This city is alive with the dying."

"That's your view, not mine," Nico said shortly, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to walk again. "So stop with this _us _crap because it's bullshit. Utter bullshit. I'm sorry you have such a shitty view on life but I don't share it. I don't _want _to share it because it fucking sucks." He passed Hades and kept walking. "And by the way, I meant why did you abandon me when I needed you not why do you hate New York. I don't give a crap why you're pissed at New York for just being here. I'm not sure I even care about you, or even want you here right now. I'm not sure I don't want this whole conversation to just crash and fucking burn right now."

"You know, your mother used to curse like that," Hades said, a morose fondness creeping into his voice. "Looking at her you would have thought she was this perfect, convent-educated, butter-wouldn't-melt type but she could have blistered that ridiculous paintjob Jason put on the original _Argo_ when she got going. And she could do it just as easily in four languages, no less. She was quite a woman."

Again Nico stopped, so suddenly that he stumbled, his heart finding his way into his throat. He had been expecting a repeat of the earth tremors, even to be swallowed by a gaping chasm, but not this. Never this. He scrunched his hands into fists in his pockets and slowly let them release again. He turned slowly. "What?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Your mother," Hades repeated. "She could curse up a storm worthy of Poseidon when something riled her. You should have heard what she called Zeus when I tried to explain… to explain that we had to go into hiding. She was never afraid of doing it in front of me, either. Some mortals, they realise how powerful a god is and they hold back, but she never did."

"I heard you," Nico said, still barely able to muster any volume to his voice. "I heard you the first time. I meant what are you doing, bringing mom into this suddenly? After all these years of refusing to talk to me about her, of letting me scrabble around in the dirt — _literally _— for tiny little bits of information about her, now it's a trip down memory lane? _Now_? Of all times? What is _wrong _with you? Did you come here to make up or just to purposely fuck with my head some more? Because, let me tell you, it's pretty damaged up there already." He emphasised this point by rapping on his skull with his knuckles. "It doesn't need you jabbing at it as well."

Hades blinked. "I don't understand. You don't want me to tell you about your mother?"

A harsh laugh escaped Nico's lips before he could stop it. "Are you serious? _Of course _I want to know about mom. I've been asking you about mom for more than seven years but you've been giving me zip this entire time and now you're breaking out the family album? And you don't see a problem with that?"

Hades closed his eyes briefly, wearily, as if each eyelid weighed a thousand tons. When he opened them again, he looked at Nico levelly for a long time. "Know this. Talking about your mother has always been too painful for me. I was consumed by rage and bitterness for the longest time over her death. I nearly let my father destroy the world because I didn't want to fight with Zeus because of what he had done. Your mother was very dear to me, Nico. I loved her more than I have ever loved a mortal woman. The births of you and your sister were some of my happiest days. I can't… it's… it's like a door I can never open. Even if that has badly affected you in some way. And for that, as well, I am truly sorry. I wish I could have shared my memories of her with you, but that would mean I faced returning to that place I was in after she was taken from me, and that can never be an option. But I did love her. Immensely. Immeasurably. And you remind me so much of her."

"I'm like mom?" The words stuck in Nico's throat, their jagged edges catching as he forced them out. For some reason, the world dissolved briefly into a blur of tears before he swallowed them back down, pressing them into a tightly-managed ball inside his chest. He was sixteen: too old to cry over mommy issues.

And yet…

Hades nodded. "So much," he said softly. "More so than even your sister. She took more after me, but you, with your immense curiosity, the way you form bonds with few people and yet cherish those few relationships you have above all else, the way you swear, the fact that you never let the established order get in your way… You are very much like her, Nico. So much that sometimes… sometimes she's all I see when I look at you."

Nico blinked back yet more tears and ran a distracted hand backwards through his hair. He spun on his heel, putting his back to Hades so his father wouldn't see his face. This was so far away from the all-out war he'd been predicting would erupt between him and his father the second he'd seen him in the restaurant. He was hearing about his _mother _out of nowhere and what was he meant to feel about that? Why did his father have to be doing this, saying these things? Why was Hades so intent on making it hard for Nico to be mad at him?

"Oh," Nico said, because he really couldn't say much else. He started walking again, keeping his eyes trained on the ground and hoping that physical distance between him and his father would help, but he felt rather than saw Hades fall into step next to him.

The influx of information was too much to handle. Nico had no idea what he was meant to do with this new caring and sharing version of his father, so he extracted his cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth, hindered by shaking hands. He lit up and took a drag, holding in the smoke until he felt like his lungs were going to burst and then letting it all out in a stream through his nostrils, revelling in the light-headedness it caused.

Again the silence stretched between them, broken only by the pounding of Nico's feet. Hades seemed to glide rather than walk, his footsteps making little, if any, noise.

"Are you sure you ought to be smoking?" Hades asked eventually. "I believe the Surgeon General is of the opinion that it has a very unpleasant effect on mortals' lungs."

Nico snorted. "Yeah, don't you think you're pretty much a million miles away from being in any position to be giving parental lectures?" he asked. "Besides, I'm already halfway through this one. Kind of late to warn me, huh?"

"Perhaps you're right," Hades said. He paused. "Aren't you going to offer me one?"

"Wait, you smoke?" Nico asked.

Hades shrugged. "Infrequently. Spending time on earth with your mother in the 1930s, I had to. All the men did. And the women. I rarely saw the appeal but I didn't blend unless I smoked, so I picked up the habit then."

"Huh. Well, today is all about learning new stuff, apparently," Nico said, looking sideways at his father and seeing him in almost an entirely new light. Warily, he offered the packet to Hades like you'd offer steak to a tiger, half expecting Hades to snatch the packet from his hand and demand he quit the filthy habit.

Instead, Hades took a cigarette, eyeing it suspiciously when it was extracted. "What is this brown part on the end?" he asked.

Nico smiled despite himself. "Infrequent smoker? Yeah, you don't say," he said. "It's a filter. They've had them on pretty much all cigarettes since, like, the 50s. When was the last time you had a cigarette?"

"It has been many years," Hades admitted. He eyed the filter suspiciously for a few more moments and then ripped it off and discarded it.

"Fair enough," Nico said. He was about to hand his father his lighter but Hades lit the cigarette with a flickering blue flame which sprang from his index finger, so he shoved it back in his pocket a little wearily. Of course his father could conjure fire from his fingertips. _Naturally._ "By the way, if someone comes and tries to write us a ticket for smoking in that park, I'm just going to sit back and let you deal with them, okay?"

"You're forbidden to smoke in the park?" Hades asked. "But… we're outside."

"Tell me about it," Nico muttered.

"These mortals and their rules," Hades said darkly. Smoke dribbled from his mouth as he said it; Nico was uncomfortably reminded of a dragon coiled, ready to spring.

They crossed East Drive. Nico took the path that went to the left automatically — to go to the right would eventually lead them to The Great Lawn and the softball fields, which he made a habit of avoiding. He didn't need to see happy, functional people and their families playing softball and having a good time. For one thing, it made him what to drink. Copiously. For another, he already knew he and his entire life were screwed up monumentally thank you very much — he didn't need other people being smiley and perfect to just rub that fact in his face.

Viciously, he ground his cigarette out under his heel and continued forwards, heading for the Ramble. The peace and quiet of the long, winding woodland paths always helped to calm him somehow, but that was on a normal day. Today was so far from that.

Again they were silent and the awkwardness of it descended like a cloud of locusts, buzzing loudly between them and noisily devouring the minutes. Nico could practically feel it prickling on his skin as they entered the seclusion of the woodland. Goosebumps raced up his arms under the shade of all the trees.

"If you loved my mom so much, and I remind you so much of her, then why do you treat me like a piece of crap?" Nico asked suddenly, mostly just for something to say. He wished he'd been able to phrase it better, but there was no eloquent way to put it; he'd been considering how to say it for a while but that was the best he could come up with.

Hades didn't answer for a while until they entered the labyrinth of paths to the north of the Lake. The awkwardness reached a peak, but Nico was all out of things to say, and Hades seemed serenely unconcerned by it.

"I should have treated you better," Hades said eventually. "I have said that and believe me, I am sorry. But in a way, it was because you reminded me of your mother that I did what I did. And yes, there were other reasons. I let my own vanity get in the way. I saw you and what you were threatening to become, an addict, and I lashed out. All I seem to get for sons are despots and madmen, why not add an addict to the list? My children have torn Europe apart over and over again for centuries, fighting with other demigods, and I just could not face another example of my failings as a parent, or face letting my family see what another child of mine had been driven to. I wanted to show them that I could deal with my children effectively. That formed part of my decision. Too large a part, I am afraid. It caused unnecessary suffering to you and to me. But mostly… mostly I did it because I kept seeing your mother staring back at me."

"Oh please, you banished me because you loved me?" Nico snorted. "Don't make me laugh. Or puke. This isn't a fucking Hallmark commercial."

"I don't know what that is," Hades said, his brow wrinkling. "But I banished you because I… do care for you as my son and I wanted to keep you safe. Whether you believe it or not, I couldn't face what happened to Maria happening to you. If my brother Zeus had found out that I had another wayward child, another loose cannon waiting to go off and potentially wrench the world asunder with war and strife, do you think he would have hesitated in striking you down? He hates that you merely exist because it represents my defiance of him. How long do you think he'd be willing to let you live if he thought that the dark path you were starting on would threaten the stability of his precious Olympus? Start a Third World War?"

"You were trying to keep me safe?" Nico asked. He bought that slightly more than the whole 'I did it because I loved you too much' excuse, although only marginally, and he let it show in his voice. "But me popping pills isn't… it's not on the same scale as what's happened before. Is it?"

Hades could not raise his eyes to meet Nico's. "You'd be amazed by how these things start with children of mine. The tiniest of signs, the smallest decisions early in their lives and in ten, twenty years they're… they're unrecognisable, almost. It's the price you pay for having me as a father. For having the blood that belongs to the darkness of the Underworld flowing through your veins. I've seen my children spiral too many times. So yes, I _was _trying to keep you safe. Zeus has seen those signs in my children just as well as I. Who knows what he would have done?"

Nico felt his stomach clench unpleasantly. He had taken no consideration of the bigger consequences of what he'd been doing. Instead, he'd been busy revelling in the immediate gratification of it all, the way a pill here and there blunted the jagged edges on the fragments of his life that remained after Mimas and that cavern beneath Rome. Could what he was doing have really resulted in Zeus wiping him off the face of the planet?

"So that's it?" Nico asked. "You were worried about what Zeus would think?"

Hades sighed. "As much as I would like to say that my concerns about the consequences of your actions were my only factor, course… there were other reasons. Shameful reasons. I feared you would injure my pride and my standing in front of the other gods. I should not have cared what they thought. I know that now. You were all that mattered. And I was angry with you for what Mimas tried to do. That was misdirected anger. I was really angry at myself for letting you be taken from the Doors of Death, from right under my nose. I was angry at Mimas for what he did to you. I wanted to tear him apart. I should have been there so you didn't have to go through your ordeal and I failed you.

"Also… I was powerless to help you. After what had happened, I saw you, my son, so hurt, so wounded, both mentally and physically, and there was _nothing _I could do. I am all-powerful and yet in this, for the first time since your mother was taken from me, I was completely impotent. I did not know how to deal with that — it confounded me. I thought that maybe, with a mortal problem such as addiction, that if you could live as a mortal and get help as a mortal you would find a way to live a better life. One free of… me. The Underworld. It had clearly not helped you being who you were and I thought maybe a break from that would help."

"A better life?" Nico echoed incredulously. Again he laughed, throwing his arms wide in disbelief. "You wanted me to have a _better life_? After you banished me, I had my finger broken by psychopaths who took advantage of my addiction. I spiralled _cataclysmically_. You know rock bottom? Well, I pretty much smashed through that and, surprise, now there's a whole sub-basement reserved just for me. I was _tormented _by someone who turned out to be Himeros' puppet and, oh yeah, I tried to slash my throat. How is any of that in any way _better_?"

Hades fiddled with the delicate links on his watch chain, absorbed with the task totally. Only the slight flinches as Nico retold the worst parts of his life showed he was even listening. As they kept stepping in and out of dappled shade under the trees and the sunlight glowed on Hades' bone-white skin, turning him an even unhealthier hue that normal. Not that Nico was one to judge — he was well aware that he probably looked seven kinds of hell right now as well.

Nico wished that he had some kind of universal remote for life that he could just press the pause button on right now and come back to this whole conversation later, when he had more of his feelings worked out. He was mad, sure, and definitely betrayed, but what else was he meant to be feeling right now? Happiness that Hades was trying to make up with him? Vindication that he was getting an (albeit stunted) apology for the way that he'd been treated? More anger? His head felt like it was going to explode from all the conflict.

Hades was saying that his addiction could have painted a target on his back for Zeus to smite with lightning. How true was that? He remembered Thalia as a pine tree, and Jason's less-than-stellar start in life and he felt his jaw tighten grimly. If Zeus was that cold towards his own kids, then what hope did Nico have as a nephew, and by a long-estranged brother at that? Maybe Hades had been trying to protect him, but he'd done a terrible job of it.

The gurgling of the Gill reached their ears from some point to their left. Aside from that, there was hardly any sound. Even the birds, which were usually so present in the Ramble, appeared to have been silenced. Nico highly suspected they'd sensed Hades coming and had got out of his way. Birds and other animals were generally a whole lot smarter than people when it came to this sort of thing.

Nico clenched and unclenched his fists, wishing he could think of something to say, but there was just _nothing _he could think of that would fill the silence. Hades had clearly heard him and was just choosing to walk rather than talk. What else could Nico do? He couldn't exactly beat the information out of his father; he'd be squashed like a bug before he could even think it.

"Please know that I never wanted to do anything to hurt you," Hades said eventually. "And know that I regret letting you down and making you go through that — I did not foresee everything that you would have to suffer through. I'm so sorry for what happened, but please believe me when I say I thought I was doing the best thing for _you_. I wrongly assumed that time as a mortal would help you deal with a mortal problem, that maybe time away from me and this world would be of benefit to you. I'm sorry that it wasn't. And mark my words, Himeros will get what is coming to him. No minor deity messes with a child of mine and gets away with it."

"You could have helped me," Nico said. "You just sat there on your immortal ass and let me crash and burn."

Hades sighed, taking off his hat, replacing it, and then taking it off again. He jammed it under his arm. "I should have done more," he acknowledged, exasperation showing on his face. "I should have been there. But the truth is, I couldn't _find _you. What I did… I did it too well. You had vanished completely. I was frantic, Nico, believe me. I even tried your friend the Oracle and she couldn't pick up on you, either. I wanted you back. I wanted to apologise and restore your position but it was too late. It wasn't until Himeros had driven you to… to do what you did that I had any idea where you were."

"And even when you found me you fished me out of the piranha tank only to toss me right back in again the second I had a chance to be free," Nico said darkly. "You _found _me. You had the opportunity to make things better and you just…" He couldn't continue because the betrayal squeezed his throat closed. He dug his fingernails into his palm to stem the rising tide of tears. "You left me," he said at last, looking Hades right in the face. He didn't care how pathetic he sounded, how small his voice was. "You had the opportunity to save me, to get me out of that train wreck I called a life and instead you dump me in the ER and vanish again? Are you for fucking real?"

Hades cheeks coloured briefly. "That was the hardest thing I have ever done," he said quietly. "You have no idea. I didn't want it to come down to you dying so young. Seeing you there, bleeding, in my arms… I nearly lost myself. I healed your most pressing wound and I considered taking you home to the Underworld, I did. But what could I offer you? A forced rehabilitation and convalescence down in the depths of Hades, away from the humanity you so crave, surrounded by symbols of your unfortunate parentage? What good what that have done you? What good has it done any of my children? How would that have helped you? And besides… you clearly had other ideas. Other needs. You were not headed home to me."

"Percy," Nico said, the surprise evident in his voice. "You mean that I was going to Percy, just like I did this time?"

Hades nodded. "You were. You clearly didn't think of the Underworld as a safe haven anymore. Not that I can say I blame you. You were craving the mortal, the normal, deeply in your subconscious and who was I to take that away from you, to deny what was so deeply rooted within you? You no longer called the Underworld your home. I just assumed it was even more evidence that you needed to deal with things the mortal way, the way that I… I forced upon you. What could I do?"

"You could have let me go to Percy!" Nico burst out with. "I mean, I did this time and I'm doing one hell of a lot better than I did that time. I lasted about five hours sober last time. This time… I'm really trying. I think I can do it. Maybe. I'm going to do my best. Instead you just… ditched me in the ER. I didn't even know who took me there. I didn't know who it was in my life that cared enough to take me. It was as confusing as all hell waking up in that hospital, and it didn't even _help _me."

"How was I supposed to know that a mortal hospital would let an addict just wander into their pharmacy and load himself down with pharmaceuticals?" Hades said dismissively, a cross edge coming into his voice. "It's ridiculous. I thought mortals had more sense than that. And besides, I let you go to Perseus Jackson this time, did I not? When it was made clear to me that he would have to play a part in this because you couldn't do it by yourself, just as he has in every other prophecy since his miserable birth… It's like he can't stand to let someone else be in the spotlight."

"Whoa, wait, prophecy? Slow down. What _prophecy_ are you talking about?" Nico sputtered, stopping dead in his tracks. "No one said anything about a prophecy. I do not want or need the kind of crap that comes with being mentioned in one of those things — I've seen the mess being part of a prophecy lands people in. Leave me out of anything you think you've got planned. I am not interested."

"It is nothing specific," Hades said, waving a hand. "Don't think of it like the prophecies you are familiar with. It's more… The Fates once told me that a child of mine would bring greatness and glory to the Underworld. So far, that has been true for none of my children. They have ultimately been on the wrong side in countless wars; the other gods have had heroes for children and I have had… well, I haven't been so fortunate.

"I see great things for you, Nico. I sense that you will be the child that brings glory to the realm of Hades. I left you in the hospital because I thought you had to do things for yourself. Perhaps you had to suffer through your problems in the mortal way to shape you for future greatness, to build yourself up for what is to come. I thought you could help yourself on your own if I got you to the hospital — I was wrong. You needed more. I'm sorry for not realising that."

"Look, first of all, can you just quit saying you're freaking _sorry, _okay?" Nico burst out savagely. "Enough is enough. You're sorry, I get it. But it's not going to make me forgive you any quicker if you say it over and over again. For something like this… it's going to take time. If I can forgive you it's just going to take a lot of time for me to sort out. Besides, you apologising? It's just too weird. You've said sorry more times in the past half an hour than you probably ever had in your life."

"Have you not considered that that is because I have never meant it more in my life than I do now?" Hades asked.

Nico's throat worked. He _hadn't _considered that. Again, he was just so freaking torn that he didn't know which way to turn, which way was up. On the one hand, his father had cast him out of the Underworld, condemned him to a life of drug dependency and being used as Derek's and ultimately Himeros' plaything. Hades had turned his back on Nico when Nico had needed him the most, abandoned him at a time of desperate need, and it had had disastrous consequences.

On the other hand, Hades hadn't been responsible for what Mimas and Gaea had done to Nico. He hadn't played a part in messing his son up so badly that he'd turned to drugs in the first place. And if what Hades had claimed was true, then the only reason he had banished Nico in the first place was fear over what Zeus would do and his enduring love for his son.

What was Nico supposed to think, especially given that Hades had apparently desperately tried to find Nico to fix it? Was he meant to be mad at the father who banished him, or forgive the father that had plucked him from the brink of death and saved his life? Should he be pissed that Hades had done the world's most half-assed job of saving Nico by dumping him in a building filled to the brim with so many drugs that Nico had felt like a kid in a candy store, when it was Nico's own addiction and not Hades that had resulted in Nico running off with handfuls of fentanyl lozenges?

What was more, how many other gods would be standing here apologising to their children when they got something wrong? As far as Nico knew, Athena had never apologised to Annabeth for her animosity towards Percy in the beginning, for demanding that they never had a relationship and generally being the mother-in-law from hell. Had Zeus ever apologised to Thalia for basically making an example of her by turning her into a pine tree instead of simply saving her life? Gods just didn't tend to apologise, period. If they ever saw what they did was wrong in the first place, which was doubtful, then pride usually prevented them from ever bringing it up again. And yet Hades was practically begging Nico to accept his apologies.

What was Nico meant to do with that?

"Percy Jackson..." Hades began, his voice trailing off. Nico could tell the words came with a bitter taste in his father's mouth.

"What about him?" Nico asked, pretty much sharing his father's feelings on Percy right now, given the stunt Percy and Rachel had pulled in the restaurant.

"You're angry with him," Hades observed.

"No shit," Nico said. "Are you surprised after what he did?"

Hades considered this. "No," he said eventually. "No, I suppose not. But I don't want you to be angry with him."

Nico laughed. "Are you serious?! _You _don't want me to be mad at Percy? You _can't stand _him. Who are you to tell me not to be mad at him?"

Hades sighed. "I... no, I can't say I particularly like my nephew," he admitted grudgingly. "You are right. For very good reasons, if you remember. But that is irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. You feel differently."

"_Felt_ differently," Nico corrected. "After today... not so much."

"Are you sure?" Hades said. "You have a connection with him, as much as I hate to admit it. You consider wherever he is your home. That kind of connection doesn't go away easily. And just as you said, it's helping you this time. Don't let this ruin that, for your sake."

"How am I meant to feel?" Nico asked. "How am I meant to react when someone I trust sets a trap for me? I've had enough mind games to last me a lifetime. From Mimas, from Gaea, from Ell, from Himeros... even you've had a good go. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep surrounding myself with people who just... yeah."

"He did not set a trap for you," Hades said. "He did not think that a meeting between us was a good idea, at least not yet, not while you were still so new to recovery. He thought that it might... lead you back down old paths. He could barely speak to me he was so angry. But I insisted. I knew I had to see you, to make things right and I knew that if anyone could handle it, it was you. I persuaded him. Both of them. Do not be angry at either of them. Be angry at me. I know I deserve it. But don't destroy what you have between you and your friends through misplaced anger that should be aimed at me."

Nico fell silent, digesting his father's words. "Percy didn't want you to see me?" he asked eventually.

"I think his first words when I suggested it were, 'If you go anywhere near Nico I will make you regret it'," Hades said, frowning mildly.

Nico was pretty sure he felt his heart stutter at the knowledge that Percy had actually stood up for him. Then what was with the sudden flip-flop and what had just happened? "Seriously?" he asked. "Well, that lasted all of ten seconds. What did you say to make him change his mind?"

"I reminded him of the importance of family," Hades said. "He may be many things, an insufferable brat included, but he is _loyal_. He will do anything for those he considers his friends. There are no lengths to which he will not go for those he considers his for his friends ends. That is doubly true for those he considers family. You are family to him and him to you not just by godly blood but through shared experiences, through friendship heightened by all that you have been through. He has been there for you at times of great need. As much as I hate to say it, I trust him to do what's best for you. You should, too."

Nico didn't know what to say to that. He had always trusted Percy. Implicitly. Whether he was fighting monsters or trying to get clean or even just wanting someone to listen to him about anything, anything at all, Percy was his go-to guy. And yet… Nico still stung from the blow Percy and Rachel had dealt when they had dumped Hades in his lap. Until now, he had never thought that Percy could do any wrong towards him, even if he'd never admit it, but that illusion had been well and truly shattered.

Hadn't it?

Unless… Percy had been doing the right thing all along by reintroducing his father and Nico was too mad and stupid to see it.

Nico rubbed his eyes, weariness being spun over him like cobwebs. What was the right answer? Was Percy a dick for the Hades-in-a-box trick he'd pulled or just a guy trying to do the right thing? How was he meant to know?

It was another question that Nico didn't know the answer to and another load to add to his burden. Even if he could give his father the slip now, he wasn't sure he would have made it more than ten steps, despite what his plans had been earlier. His thoughts were too heavy, too pressing, and for the first time in a long time he actually wanted to take the time to try and work them through rather than running and hiding from them, wrapping himself in a comforting cocoon of pharmaceuticals until he couldn't hear them clamouring at him anymore.

Oh crap. Was this progress? Growth? Who _was _he?

They had been walking in a vaguely westerly direction and finally reached Bank Rock Bay. Nico was immensely glad because it gave him an excuse not to speak as he looked out over the glittering expanse of water. They stepped on to Oak Bridge and stopped halfway, by silent mutual consent. Together they leaned on the railings and peered around the dense foliage that was planted right up to the shore to where Bank Rock Bay widened into the Lake beyond.

They were silent for the longest time yet, but with the gentle plashing of the water against the shore and the bridge below them, the creaking of the wood around them as people made their way across the bridge, and the sight of the Lake to draw their eyes and focus, it was nowhere near as uncomfortable as it had been.

"You had good reasons for doing what you did," Nico said eventually, keeping his gaze focused straight ahead. Better to acknowledge that now and get it out of the way. "Or at least… you thought you did."

Hades tilted his head. "Perhaps. Although I also had many bad reasons. Far too many bad reasons."

"Yeah, no shit. It was the wrong thing to do, even if you thought you were doing it for the right reasons," Nico said. "I didn't need to be made to feel more alone, weaker, more vulnerable, more helpless… I was already feeling all of those things. Mimas really screwed me up. He took so much from me. When you took away anything he left behind over a few stupid Vicodin… how do you think that made me feel?"

"Betrayed," Hades said, with a heavy sigh and lead weights in his voice. "You felt like I'd betrayed you. And I admit, it was not my finest hour. I acted too fast, too rashly. I thought—"

"I know," Nico said. "You said. You thought that I would benefit from dealing with things the mortal way. And maybe you were right, to a point. Maybe I did need to get my shit together as a human being before I got my shit together as a demigod. But that choice wasn't yours to make and you made it anyway. And everything that has happened since then… it could have been so different. So you get why this is hard, right? Why forgiving you… it's not a switch that I can just turn on. You fucked up. A lot. Not as much as I did, sure, and for some really good reasons generally, but you still did. It's going to take me a while to be okay with that."

"I understand," Hades said. "But I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me eventually. You are my son, Nico, and you are dear to me despite my, as you put it, 'fuck ups'. I would give anything for us to be reconciled."

"I don't want to be mad at you forever," Nico said, staring unseeingly down at the water beneath them. He was surprised that he actually meant what he was saying. "I know it might seem like that but seriously, I don't. You're my father. Despite everything. And I get that you thought you were doing the right thing. I get that you were worried about me and scared and didn't know how to help. I get that you changed your mind once you'd done it, as well. But none of that changes the fact that you did it in the first place. I mean it helps, maybe it makes me hate you a little less, but… I still don't know if I can trust you. I just need..."

"Time," Hades supplied. "You are going to ask me for time."

Nico nodded. "I know that's not what you wanted to hear," he said. "But I need to process all of this stuff. I actually _want _to process all of this stuff instead of pretending it doesn't exist. Weird, I know. I've learned so much in the last few hours that I can't even begin to…" He broke off, scrubbing a hand across his face. "I'm so damn tired," he said.

His father had banished him and then tried to search desperately for him. His father had saved Nico's life after condemning his only living son to a miserable existence that had been the whole reason Nico had needed his life saving in the first place. His father hadn't denied him access to his mother for all these years out of cruelty — it was about a wound that hadn't healed seven decades on. His father had thrown him to Himeros and his pack of wolves, of which Derek was the alpha, to prevent Zeus from pinning a target to his back. It was just so messed up that Nico wasn't sure he could ever get it straight in his head.

He was suddenly cripplingly exhausted, the influx of information apparently having taken its toll more than he thought.

"I hope you have considered what I have said today, Nico," Hades said. "Please know that I meant every word. All I want is for you to be safe, to be happy."

"And to grow up to become the Underworld's ultimate champion?" Nico asked with a bitter bite to his voice. His stare at the water hardened drastically; the surface snapped into sudden focus and he was met by a wobbly rendition of the blue sky above them, ran through with wiggling ripples.

Hades hesitated. "Yes," he said slowly. "But not at the cost of your health and happiness. The time I have spent without you… it makes me realise how much I value you, how much you mean to me. I would rather have you be okay and not the one to bring glory to Hades than have you as my champion and see you miserable and in pain."

"Good," Nico said. "I hope you mean that because you should know I'm not pissing my pants with excitement over being the champion of Hades. I can't even be the champion over... you know. Pills. So I don't know how I'm meant to be your champion. I am the biggest screw up in the history of screw ups, so I don't think I'm the one. Don't get your hopes up."

"Nico, I don't think you realise just how special you are," Hades said. "You are sixteen years old, still a child, and yet you have been through enough to last a lifetime. Several lifetimes. You have experienced the depravity of the Giants and Gaea firsthand and managed to come out the other side and be standing here now. You have had the strength of will and character to hold yourself together through everything, _despite _everything. How many mortals do you think would be having this conversation now? Do you really think that they would have made it through what you did? Half the demigods at that ridiculous summer camp would not have made it through what you did. You are strong, resilient and brave. I am proud to call you my son no matter what."

Nico snorted. Throughout Hades' speech, he'd been picking at his cuticles with his thumbnail and now stuck his forefinger in his mouth to rip off some hanging skin. He barely noticed the pain or the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.

"Strong? Brave? You're saying it like I skipped away from Mimas like I was carrying a bag of sunshine and kittens," Nico said darkly, spitting the slither of skin in his mouth over the side of the bridge. "In case you didn't notice, I ended up sampling the A to Z of FDA-approved drugs and then some. And after that I decided that I couldn't face the shit that came with being alive, living with the flashbacks of what happened, coping with just keeping breathing, so I decided to quit. You think that's coping? You think that's strong and resilient and brave? Are you fucking insane?"

"I've been told so," Hades said. "Many times. But I am not mad in this. I am not crazy for believing in you and being able to marvel at the fact that you made it through one of the worst ordeals and are still here now, despite what you may have done in between. After I rescued you and took you to the hospital, you could easily have tried to end your life again and yet you did not. Here we are. What does that say?"

"That I'm a coward," Nico said. "That I only had the courage to try once and haven't had the guts to do it again."

"Have you wanted to do it again?" Hades asked.

Nico considered the question for a long time. He turned around and slid down the bridge's railings, sitting with his legs outstretched. His fingers lightly traced the wood beneath him, exploring the grit and dirt he found there, which was raked towards him when his hands contracted into fists. The sun burned through the denim of his borrowed jeans.

"No," he finally said, surprised at the answer and how genuine he sounded. His fists gradually relaxed, although not before he had got half of the dirt in Central Park lodged up his fingernails. "No, I've not... it's never been that bad. Not since that night."

"Do you not realise the immense courage it is taking for you to continue living with what has happened to you?" Hades asked. "You are choosing a difficult path. To live with the memories, the pain, the addiction, the sadness... that is not easy."

"So what, if living is hard then you think trying to kill yourself is _easy_?!" Nico demanded, his head rearing up so he could look Hades in the face. His eyes flashed angrily. "You think anyone who kills themselves is taking the _easy _route out? Do you have any idea... but no. Of course you don't. You're going to live forever, how could you? Just because mortals go down to your realm and you get dominion over them when they're dead doesn't mean it's a fucking picnic for them. I would rather face Mimas and Gaea all over again, a hundred times, even, than have to feel the way I felt that night. It took every ounce of strength I had to decide I didn't want to live anymore. And sure, maybe just the death part is easier than living with everything that happened, but actually gettingto the Underworld under your own steam isn't some stroll in the park. Don't you dare think that someone who kills themselves is a coward."

"That is not what I meant," Hades said. "Living is difficult, especially given what you've been through, but obviously with a finite mortal lifespan, choosing to die is not easy, either. I know that."

"Do you?" Nico asked pointedly. "I'm not sure you do. Just because people end up downstairs with you when their life is over doesn't mean they can't wait. You might be happy to see them but I don't know how happy any of them are to see you."

"I take no pleasure it welcoming the souls of the departed," Hades said glumly. "Nor do I take any pleasure in sensing the aura of death that hangs over all mortals and especially over groups of them as large as in this city. I was given the Underworld by my brothers when they were dividing up the world. Do you think I wanted the Underworld, the dead, over the seas or the skies? I might be, as you put it, fucking insane, but I am not mad enough to pick dominion over all below the ground and the dead over what else was on offer. But that is the lot that I drew in life: now it is who I am. Who I have had to become."

"Yeah, well, you don't look like you're hating it," Nico muttered. "The palace, the throne room, the robe of souls, the skeleton servants… How terrible for you."

"I have made the best of a bad situation!" Hades snapped, anger rising in him for the first time since they had entered the park. "Don't judge me for that. You say I have all of these things, but what about the things that I _don't_ have? Before the Second Titan War, I couldn't even visit Olympus more often than one day a year. My home was barred to me, my wife forcibly parted from me for six months out of every twelve. There was a whole list of things I was not permitted to do and you think a few servants and gemstones make up for that?"

Nico closed his eyes. He didn't need his father's issues dumped on him as well, especially not right now. Besides, he was actually sympathising with him, which was just weird and unexpected. Being a child of Hades wasn't exactly easy, either, so he kind of knew how his dad felt. "No," he said. "No, they don't. I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology," Hades said stiffly.

Nico drew his legs into his chest and rested his eye sockets into his knees, enjoying the darkness this brought. They had fallen silent again, which was giving Nico an uncomfortable amount of time to think, which was in turn giving him a headache. When he uncurled himself, the light blinded him temporarily and he blinked hard at the blobs that drifted across his vision.

"What now?" he asked. "Where do we go from here? I don't… yeah."

"I've said all that I needed to say," Hades said simply. "I've said that I do care for you quite a bit, that you are my son, and that I should never have done what I did. What you choose to do with that is up to you. But Nico… for both of our sake's, please don't take too long over this. You've been missing for too long already and now you are here… I don't want us to be estranged. You and you alone have been responsible for some of the biggest changes in me and my standing amongst the other gods for millennia. Not since I was regurgitated when my father was killed have things changed for me so monumentally in such a short space of time. I have a throne on Olympus and the freedom to go there whenever I want. I have the respect of the other gods. Relations between my brothers and I… well, they're not perfect but they're better than they've ever been. Without you, Nico, without you persuading me to do the right thing, I'd have none of that and Kronos would probably be ruling the world. You are like none of my other children. No one but you could have made this happen. You are special and you are missed and one day, when you are ready… I want you to come home."

Nico swallowed hard. He wasn't used to hearing such high praise from, well, _any_one let alone his father and he wasn't sure that he knew how to react.

"Fine," he eventually managed. "Fine, but I want you to respect that I stand by what I said. _This _is my home. This is where I want to be, where I _need _to be. Maybe one day, when I'm ready, I'll be able to face the Underworld again but until then…"

Hades held up his hands. "I am not going to force you to do anything," he said. "I want you to take as much time as you need. Before you come home, I want you to really be sure you're doing the right thing. To make sure you're doing it for you and not for anyone else. Besides, dragging people off to my realm… it's not always worked out so well for me in the past. But think on this matter. Really consider it. I want you by my side once more."

"Fine," Nico said. "I promise I'll think about it." He didn't really have much of a choice, did he? He was going to be thinking about nothing else for days at the very least. He hauled himself to his feet, dusted off his hands and the seat of Percy's jeans.

"That is all I ask," Hades said. "Now I must depart. Thank you for talking with me today. I know it can't have been easy and I know you probably wanted to be anywhere else, but I appreciate you taking the time to listen to my side of the story. I hope it… I hope it helped you. And I mean what I say: I really do just want you to be happy."

"It did," Nico said. "It did help. As for the happy… I don't know about that. That's going to take a lot more work, you know? I'm not sure I'm familiar with the whole concept. But maybe I can get there eventually." He paused. "You know… you didn't have to say you were sorry," he said. "Not every god would have done that. I mean, it freaked me the fuck out and please don't do it again but still… thank you, I guess?"

"You are more than welcome," Hades said. "And more than deserving of my apology. I have wronged you tremendously and an apology is the least I owe you."

"Okay" Nico said uncomfortably, shoving his hands in his pockets. Humility and gods was not meant to go together like this. It was just too weird. "So, I'm going to… yeah. Go." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder with his thumb turned to leave, heading back the way they had come.

"Wait," Hades said.

Nico heard him snap his fingers and turned just as his father was crossing the space between them clutching something in his hand. Nico blinked in shock at the familiarity of the object, his heart quickening in his chest.

"That's…" He couldn't finish, his mouth drying up and shrivelling the rest of the sentence with it. "That's my sword," he continued eventually, his voice thick and heavy when he finally got his mouth to cooperate.

"It is," Hades said, holding it out to Nico.

The sword was in its scabbard and attached to its sword belt; Nico drank in the sight of the scarred and worn leather and the hilt of the sword he knew better than the back of his own hand. How many times had he longed to have it back? And now… here it was. He couldn't do anything but stare at it, watch as the blade mercilessly devoured the sunlight falling on it. His fingers twitched; he had been about to reach for it but stopped at the last minute, almost afraid that, like a dying man in a desert seeing an oasis, it was nothing but a mirage.

The sword pretty much symbolised who he was. Whereas the other demigods had to make do with celestial bronze, Nico had this sword and with it his entire status as Prince of the Underworld slung casually at his hip. The blade terrified mortals and monsters, friends and foe, alike and it was right here, almost in his grasp after so many years being without it. Did he dare take it? What did that mean if he took possession of the sword again?

"Take it," Hades said, starting to frown. "Don't you want it back?"

"You have no idea," Nico said softly, still not taking his eyes off the sword. "You have no idea how much I want to be the person who fought with that sword again, but…"

"But what?" Hades asked, his frown deepening.

Nico tore his gaze away from the sword, looking down at his shoes. "But I'm not that person anymore," he said. "I can't just take the sword and suddenly go back to the way things were. And you can't give it back to me and think that it makes everything okay, either, because it really doesn't."

"I'm giving it to you because it's yours," Hades said. "And yes, perhaps because it is a logical first step in you accepting the Underworld but mostly it's just because it's yours and I think you should wield it again. You are no different from the person you were before Mimas and that cavern. If anything, you are a hundred times stronger now than you were then. You were great once with this sword — with it now, you could be glorious, magnificent. I want all those things for you."

"I don't know if I can," Nico said, looking up at his father. "I just don't know anymore."

"_I_ know," Hades said emphatically. "I have never been surer of anything in my life. Take the sword, Nico. It belongs to you. It belongs _with _you."

Again Nico's fingers twitched and he lunged forwards spasmodically to take the sword before he could change his mind again. As soon as he took hold of the hilt, he could feel the blade like it was an extension of his arm. He knew it intimately, right down to the point vanished into a tip too fine to even see, and a surge of power from the knowledge that it was simply there at his side threatened to overwhelm him.

"You see?" Hades said.

Nico unsheathed the sword and held it out, his eyes roving along the length of the blade. The balance hadn't changed; it was exactly as he remembered it. He sheathed the sword and buckled the belt it around his waist; even the notch that made it the smallest, which was worn wider than its neighbours as the hole he had always used, made the belt rest low on his hips rather than around his waist. Despite that, it felt so natural for it to be there and he automatically rested his hand on the hilt.

"I see," he admitted. "Look, I'm going to keep it okay? But don't expect me to be _glorious_ with it. I mean, I don't even have my powers. Monsters don't know I exist. They're not going to come running until they do and I'm not going to have much chance to use it so it's going to be baby steps, got it?"

Hades blinked at him. "What do you mean?" he said. "I returned your powers to you when I touched you on the shoulder at the restaurant. You don't think that _I've _been causing all of those earthquakes, do you?" He laughed. "I have much more self-control than that. Contrary to popular belief, I've had quite a bit of practise."

Nico's legs almost gave way under him and he had to clutch the railing of the bridge for support. He had his powers again? He was back up and running, an actual demigod again, and he hadn't even known? And… was that even what he wanted? Shouldn't he at least have been consulted? "Wh-what?"

"I've had quite a bit of practise lately," Hades repeated. "At controlling myself. Although I understand that it may not appear so at times. After what happened between us, I never want to act so rashly again where you are concerned."

"No, I mean—"

"Well, that completes everything I came here to do," Hades said briskly in a business-like manner. "Please think about everything we have discussed today. Now, I promised your friend the Oracle that I would return you to Percy Jackson's home, so…"

"Wait—" Nico tried, but Hades waved his arm and Nico vanished into a pitch dark howling hurricane.

* * *

><p>Percy was sitting at the table in his kitchen when Nico reappeared.<p>

"Whoa," Nico said, staggering slightly as he tried to regain his balance. It had been a long time since he had done that. He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them in front of his face. Traces of shadows slithered from his fingertips, dropping from his hands like satisfied leeches and making a beeline for the darkness beneath the couch.

So this was it, huh? This is what it felt like to be a true demigod again. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it but he guessed there wasn't exactly a lot of room to make a U-turn now.

Percy jumped up, startled, knocking the chair over backwards and clutching at his chest.

"What the hell, Nico?!" he demanded. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He took some time to return his breathing to normal and was bending down to pick up the chair when he stopped and snapped back to standing. "Wait, did you just shadow-travel? And is that your sword?"

Nico folded his arms. "Okay, first of all, you don't get to be pissed at me for _anything _after that crap you and Rachel pulled. I scare you half to death, you have to put up with that because, _wow, _that was a dick move. And second of all yes, yes I did shadow-travel. And yup, my sword is back."

Well, technically, Hades had shadow-travelled Nico here but if what Hades had said was right then Nico would be able to do it himself from now on, so…

Percy sighed, running a hand across his face. He crossed the apartment and threw himself down face first onto the couch, burying his head in the cushions and groaning into them. "I know," he said, his voice muffled through a mouthful of sofa. "I know: I suck. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Yes you do," Nico said, moving towards Percy and flopping into an armchair, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "As long as we're on the same page."

Percy sat up. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm good," Nico said. He actually kind of meant it as well. Talking with his father hadn't been completely horrible. It hadn't been easy, but it hadn't killed him, either.

Percy winced, clearly taking what Nico had said the wrong way. "Look, don't hate me, okay? At first, I thought getting you together with your dad was like the worst idea in the history of bad ideas and then he talked me around and I don't know. Rachel was there and she's normally good with this crap, not that I'm blaming Rachel because we both made the decision, but she thought that maybe we should try it and I got persuaded and I know that's no excuse and I shouldn't have done, but—"

Nico cut him off by raising a hand. "Okay, first of all? You're rambling. Second of all…" He let out a breath through his nose. "Second of all, okay, maybe — just maybe — it was the right thing to do." He said the last part reluctantly, but the fact was that he was kind of glad that he'd got to speak with his dad. Something that didn't altogether suck had actually come out of it, surprisingly.

Percy looked at him quizzically. "Are you high?" he demanded suddenly, leaning closer to Nico. "Show me your pupils."

"I'm not high," Nico said. "So stop looking at me like that. Seriously, it's weird. And I'm not saying that a surprise reunion was a good idea because yeah, that _was _idiotic, but… I didn't realise how much he had to say. Hell, I didn't even realise how much _I _had to say. I'd never have found out if it wasn't for you." He saw Percy's eyes narrow and he rolled his own. "I am NOT high!"

"Yeah, well, you get that it's kind of hard for me to believe, right?" Percy said. "I mean, you've gone from hating your father's guts and now you're just forgiving him? Just like that?"

"I haven't forgiven him," Nico said shortly. "And I told him that. I told him that he couldn't expect miracles overnight. But it was… well, it didn't suck to hear what he had to say."

"Well, okay. That's a start, right?" Percy said.

Nico stared at the floor. "I don't know, is it?" he asked. "When I left the restaurant, I wanted so bad to just run away. I kept thinking of a million different places I could disappear and no one would ever find me, where there'd be something to take the edge off. I would have done it as well if I hadn't nearly ended up as roadkill. It's not really the start of anything except me realising all over again how screwed up I am. I really, really wanted to, Percy. I could have disappeared and never had to deal with any of this again and I _wanted_ to. I can't tell you how much."

"But you didn't," Percy said. "You made it through."

"Accidentally," Nico said shakily. "And it was pretty close. If my father had been two seconds later I probably would have gone and I wouldn't be here right now. I nearly screwed up. Badly. I nearly threw away everything. What kind of person am I who would just do that? I would have just tossed it back in your face."

"Look, Nico, we both know this was never going to happen overnight," Percy said. "You're allowed to have thoughts like that. You've been an addict. They're going to be part of your life and that's not your fault. And I'm always going to be here keeping your ass in line. If you think you can pull the same disappearing act on me again, you're wrong. Don't forget it."

"I _am _an addict," Nico corrected with a slight crack in his voice as he faced the reality of it. "I'm sorry, Percy."

"For what?"

"For… I don't know." Nico sighed. "I suck. I shouldn't be forcing you to deal with this. I'm sorry for everything. For getting into this mess in the first place, for asking you to bail me out, for Himeros, for... yeah. Everything. I don't know. Maybe I've spent too much time with my father. He kept apologising. Every ten seconds he was saying sorry for something."

"You don't need to be sorry," Percy said. "I told you: no matter what, I'm here for you. And wow, you should have sold tickets to your dad saying sorry. I don't think anyone would ever have believed he even knew how to say it. So, he gave you back your powers? And your sword? That's… pretty big."

Nico smiled. "What, afraid you've got some Big Three competition on your hands?" he asked.

Nico longed to try out shadow-travelling again, if only to show off, but something held him back. He hoped that Hades knew that returning his powers didn't just _fix _things. It wasn't like some switch you could flip, or a gift you could give that automatically made everything better, because it really didn't. It wasn't magically going to heal the rift between them, and he wished he'd had chance to say that to Hades personally. Maybe he would even have refused his powers if he'd been given a choice, at least for now. But he hadn't been given a choice and now here he was.

Just one more thing to deal with.

Percy snorted. "As if. I meant are you okay with it? It's a massive change. Are you ready for it?"

Nico shrugged with one shoulder. "Honestly? I don't know. If I'd had the choice then I'd probably have said no, hold off and wait for me to get my head together but maybe it was better I didn't get a choice. Otherwise I probably would have kept saying no. As much as it sucked to be cut off from the Underworld and my powers... I was _free_, Percy. For the first time in the longest time, I felt free. I mean yeah, I made a mess of it but I was finally just another normal person. It felt so good. Maybe it's better for me to just have them and deal with it sooner rather than later, you know?"

"If you say so," Percy said. "I just don't want you to deal with anything you're not ready for. I don't want this to be that one thing that sends you back over the edge. But if you think it's helping, then we're okay."

"For now, it's helping," Nico said. "Whether it will still be helping when the next monster sniffs us both out and drops in is another matter but for now... yeah. I'm okay with it. I promise."

"Then that's all that matters," Percy said. "And hey, a monster can try and drop in if it likes. Good luck to it now you're back in the game. I'm glad that the whole thing helped, even if it only helped a little. It's something. I'm sorry I forced you into it, though, I really am. And you're right, it was a dick move, but we didn't think you'd actually agree to meet him if you knew he was going to be there."

"I wouldn't have," Nico said. "I wouldn't have gone within ten miles of the place if I knew he'd be sitting there. And at first I was pretty pissed at you and Rachel, sure, but then… I don't know. By the time we were done talking, I felt like maybe it was worth it, kind of? One talk with him hasn't made things all better and I know that it's going to take a long time before I can trust him again, but yeah, it was a start. I got enough out of it for me to be talking to you right now, anyway. If it had gone badly then maybe not."

"You mean I missed out on the silent treatment from you?" Percy asked disappointedly. "Oh man."

"You may now go fuck yourself," Nico said dignifiedly, adding a sniff.

Percy grinned. "Whatever. Like you'd have been able to stay quiet for five seconds if you were pissed at me. Or just… ever."

"Asshat," Nico said.

"Emo," Percy shot back.

A smile flitted across Nico's face briefly before it withered and died. He was grateful that he had Percy, so grateful, and he didn't think he could do this without him, but was it really fair to Percy to expect him to fix things? He was thankful that Percy could manage to bring a sense of normalcy to his life despite everything, but at what personal cost to himself? Was he just some vampire, sucking Percy dry and not able to give anything back in return? Nico knew that Percy was going to do his best to help him, and Percy's best was pretty much awesomeness personified, but did he really deserve it?

He thought back to where he'd be now if it wasn't for Percy. Probably dead, and if not dead then down in the Underworld, going through this whole process by himself. He had no idea how Percy did it, but he always seemed to be the glue that held everything together for most of the people in his life. Nico hoped that Percy had a lot of glue to go around, because he knew that he had been shattered into so many tiny little pieces that it was going to take a vat of glue before anything looked and felt remotely like the way it had been before. Yet at the same time, guilt wormed its way through him as he thought of everything he was asking Percy to do for him, everything he was asking Percy to try and fix. That was a lot of pressure to just toss at someone and Nico wasn't sure he was comfortable with being the kind of person who did that.

Percy suddenly clambered up, vaulting the back of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. "Hey, do you want something to eat? I'm feeling Thai food." He opened a drawer in the kitchen and takeout menus immediately erupted, making a mad dash for freedom from the overstuffed drawer.

"Didn't you eat at the restaurant?" Nico said.

Percy wrinkled his nose, extracting a menu and then jamming the jaw closed again. "It was weird, rich people food. I ended up asking for a burger but it came out and it was basically like… raw. It was a rare hamburger. Who eats a rare hamburger? And then I kept thinking about how the waiter had probably spat in it because I asked for it in the first place so yeah, it didn't get eaten. Luckily, Rachel paid the bill. They probably charged about seventy bucks or something for it." He waved the menu. "Thai?"

Nico frowned at the flapping menu, unsure of whether he actually wanted anything, but then his stomach answered for him. It growled, actually growled, at the mention of food. He had no idea when he'd actually last felt hungry but now he was he decided to make the most of it. "Sure, but I want pad Thai with pork."

"Got it," Percy said, putting his head down and reading the menu.

"And crispy-fried noodles," Nico continued suddenly. "And they do this thing sometimes with chicken and cashew nuts. Ooh, and crab cakes. You have to get those. And maybe something with duck?"

Percy looked up from the menu then crossed the apartment and wordlessly handed it over to Nico. He took his seat on the couch again and watched Nico going over the menu, surprised that Nico actually wanted to, you know, eat considering the way he'd picked at the French toast that morning. This had to be a good sign, right? A sign that the drugs were loosening their hold?

The papers that Rachel had printed off for him were still scattered around the apartment from where Nico had crashed into him earlier. Percy's eyes drifted over them, wondering if one of the pages had all the answers on it, but somehow he didn't think you could print life hacks like that off the Internet. Instead he was just left wondering what was next? Where did they go from here?

Percy looked back to Nico, who was absorbed deeply in reading the menu and had no idea he was being observed. Flashes of everything that Rachel had shown him flitted darkly across his consciousness and he couldn't suppress a shudder. Nico had been through so much. Hell, he'd been through more in the last couple of months than most people went through in a couple of decades, and when that was added with what had come before… Well, it was no wonder that Nico had got so lost. Percy hated it. He wished he could just wipe the slate clean but life didn't work that way.

Sure, Nico may seem happy now but how deep did that happiness really go? There was so much that Nico didn't say, that he held deep inside, and that frightened Percy. Percy could only deal with the stuff that Nico was willing to talk to him about or the stuff that was obvious on the surface — if there were things Nico continued to keep locked up then what could Percy do for him? Why couldn't there just be some kind of nectar for the type of pain Nico was in, like there was for physical wounds?

He knew he had to help Nico; he had always known it but it had become clearer now than it had ever been. Nico _deserved_ a way out and Percy was going to do his best to help Nico find it, however long that took and whatever form it should take. Percy couldn't go back and fix the past and make it so that Mimas had never happened — although he would if he could — so the most he could do was just sit here and help Nico through it one day at a time. Even if that meant making hard decisions like setting up a meeting between Nico and Hades, Percy was going to make sure he did everything he could to help Nico heal.

He sighed deeply, scratching the back of his head. It was a long road ahead for Nico, especially with everything that he was leaving behind, but Percy was going to take every step with him. He owed Nico that. Percy was pretty sure that Nico's kind of problems didn't have a definite finishing line to cross. There was no point in the future where Nico's problems were suddenly going to vanish, but he knew that he could at least try to get Nico to a better place.

One step at a time.


	13. Chapter 13

**I really don't have any words for how fantastic and wonderful and fabulous and all those other adjectives you wonderful readers are. Thank you for all your kind words, for your continued support, and for just sitting there and reading. Even if you don't review, I still see your hit on the page and I am blown away by how many people are reading this, seriously. And I'm even more blown away by the number of you that take the time out to review. So thank you. It means more to me than I can say, especially given what a beast I threw at you the last time out.**

**This chapter is nowhere near as long as that, you don't have to fear. It's also not as emotional as that one, although, naturally, I can't let a chapter go by without some form of drama.**

**Since **_**House of Hades **_**has come out since I last posted a chapter, I will mention that, due to an argument I'm having with Leo Tolstoy (don't ask) I haven't started it yet. My fingers are in my ears and I'm in a corner screeching "LALALALALALALALALA" to avoid spoilers, just so you know.**

**My thanks, forever and always, to JJDracula. If it weren't for her, none of us would be here and I never would have had a chance to write this fic and share it with you all. She is also responsible for the artwork now attached to this story, which I love. There will be new artwork to come at some point when I retrieve the latest sketch she sent me from the digital ether. It's there, just… somewhere.**

**Thank you again. You are all the best readers any author could hope for.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Annabeth, Percy, Rachel and Nico were sat around the kitchen island in Rachel's cavernous kitchen. All of the surfaces winked spotlessly back at them under the overhead lights. It had been late when Annabeth had finally finished up at her internship and now it was dark outside; New York glittered at them through the enormous slabs of plate glass around the apartment. The grandfather clock, which was made of translucent purple Perspex, had just struck 10.<p>

Annabeth, Rachel and Nico had mugs of coffee in front of them, steam writhing up from the mugs. Percy, still grossed out about where Rachel's coffee came from, had stopped off and bought his own on the way. Nico was staring into his mug, quietly shredding the discarded lid of Percy's takeout cup. His fingers felt like they were itching to be busy at something, and better this than nabbing some stranger's wallet so he could go and have a blowout.

His head was still spinning from the conversation he'd had with his father that afternoon in the park. He had no idea when he was finally going to be able to sit there and process it all. Looking back, it all seemed like it had been one big circular conversation and besides, he wasn't sure how many of his issues it had actually solved. Well, apart from revealing that he had been returned to the folds of the Underworld, which he wasn't even sure he had wanted to start with.

What was more, now he was sitting around doing nothing, chills had crept back in and his hands were shaking as he tore apart the plastic lid. Nausea gnawed at the pit of his stomach and his head pounded, the overhead halogens like stakes in his retinas. He'd made one hell of a lot of progress but there was no denying that he was definitely still going through withdrawal.

"I'm so glad you told me to meet you here," Annabeth said to Rachel. As she spoke, she was unpinning her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. Her next words were muffled by the pins she had in her mouth. "After Percy told me about Himeros, I think if I'd spent any

alone with him I would have throttled him."

"Hey, less with the throttling," Percy said, laughing and holding up his hands defensively. "After today, I could do without that. Don't blame me for Himeros. After all these years, you'd think you'd accept that this comes as part of the package with me. I'm just walking around minding my own business and suddenly boom. Crazy demigod stuff is happening."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and removed the pins from her mouth, tucking them away in her pocket. "Yeah, trust me, I'm used to it," she said. "Having lived it, I know. But still, you did kind of go looking for trouble. In a _strip club_? Less than smart."

"I knew I should have given you the edited version of this story," Percy said. "The one where I found Himeros in a nunnery. I didn't go because it was a strip club; I went because that's where I had to go. Besides, I didn't see anything! Well… anything much. I saw a little. But it made me think of you!"

Nico looked up from his lid with interest, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth despite himself. He and Rachel had apparently just got ringside tickets to something that could get _very_ good. Despite knowing that Annabeth was likely to explode when this subject was broached, Percy had still messed up anyway. Still, this was classic Percy. If putting his foot in it was an Olympic sport…

Even Nico knew that telling your girlfriend you went to a strip club and were thinking of her was a bad move and the only woman he'd ever dated had been an actual stripper.

Besides, what Annabeth didn't know, of course, was that she already _had _been given the redacted version of the story, the one that didn't include Percy getting hickeys from Himeros' personal harem while Himeros had been playing doctor with Nico's arm. Sensible, really, because what he'd said to Percy that afternoon still stood — Yellowstone blowing up would look like a kitten sneezing in comparison to Annabeth's wrath.

Annabeth blinked, placing the last pin from her hair down on the counter with a deliberate click. "You saw strippers and it made you think of me?" she asked. "_Really_, Percy?"

Rachel's eyes glittered and she smiled over the top of her coffee cup as she took a sip, clearly as suddenly enraptured as Nico. "If you make a mess with your boyfriend, you can clear it up," she said. "Just FYI."

"They were sexy!" Percy said, as if he were oblivious to the fact that that statement was kind of like trying to defuse a hundred pounds of C-4 with a nuke.

Annabeth's eyebrows vanished into her hairline at the comment and she stared at Percy. Nico hid a laugh by snorting into his coffee; Rachel hadn't been so lucky and choked on hers. She dribbled it back into her cup, still coughing, and then put a hand over her eyes.

Percy glared at Nico for not having his back. "They _were_ sexy," he continued to Annabeth, taking hold of her hands. "Just like you. In fact, none of them were anywhere near as sexy as you."

"Nice save," Annabeth admitted reluctantly. "But seriously, let's keep a lid on future visits to strip joints, okay?"

Percy grinned. "Sure, if you limit future bachelorette parties to lemonade-fuelled pinochle games with Chiron and a 9pm curfew instead of what happened at Katie Gardener's bachelorette party?"

"I'm still trying to get the baby oil out of that dress," Rachel said wistfully, staring off into the distance with a small smile playing across her lips.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "Touché," she said, adding an agreeable tilt of her head. She raised her coffee mug but Percy took it off her and planted a kiss on her lips, reaching up to tuck her newly-freed hair behind her ear. Annabeth grabbed a fistful of Percy's shirt and dragged him back in for another kiss as he tried to pull away

"Ugh, couples," Rachel muttered. "You're offending my delicate eternal maiden sensibilities over here."

"Barf," Nico agreed.

Annabeth broke away from Percy to give Rachel a pointed look. "Given that we're on the topic of the bachelorette party, do you not think that all of that whipped cream might have done a little more to offend those sensibilities than Percy and me, hmm?"

Rachel nodded. "Busted," she agreed, giving a one-shouldered drug. "And hey, you were there. You can't blame a girl, right?"

Nico slid off his stool and stretched. "I'm going to use the bathroom and hope this is all done when I get back," he said, pulling a face.

"Take me with you?" Rachel asked hopefully, just as Nico turned and began to make his way across the apartment.

"To the bathroom?" he asked over his shoulder. "Why, you want to powder your nose and talk about guys?"

Rachel considered. "Kind of," she said eventually. "But probably not with you."

Nico shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, turning back and walking out of sight.

As soon as he had gone, Rachel got up and fetched the decanter she and Percy had drunk from before, something which seemed a million years ago given everything that had happened in between.

"Who wants in?" she asked conspiratorially, waving the decanter at them. "Today has been the longest of long days." She was already topping up her mug without waiting for an answer and she met little protest from Annabeth and Percy as she moved to add whiskey to their coffee.

Annabeth took a sip, but when she put her mug down she frowned at it. "You know… I kind of think Irishing up the coffee makes us bad friends," she said uncertainly, her mouth twisting into a shape which clearly displayed her discomfort. "I mean, doesn't it?"

Rachel visibly deflated and she set the whiskey down on the countertop. "Maybe you're right," she said, staring unseeingly at the way the glass of the decanter fractured the overhead light into a rainbow. "Gods, I'm a terrible person, huh? I didn't think. I just thought as long as we didn't rub his face in it… Do I need to tip these out? Or should we offer some to him?"

Annabeth shook her head. "No, you're not a terrible person," she said emphatically. "Not even a little bit. I didn't mean to make you feel like that. It's just… I mean, how are we meant to act around Nico now? I'm trying to work it out. Should we avoid drinking around him? Do we just censor ourselves all the time and hope we don't slip up? Maybe I'm overreacting and it doesn't matter that much, but it just feels like if we have to keep it a secret, it can't be the right thing? I'm struggling here. What's the right thing to do, you know?"

"If Nico found out that we were doing that, he'd be pissed," Percy said. "He already thinks he's a massive burden on everyone, even though I've told him a million times that he's not. I don't think he'd be happy to find out that we were treating him differently just because of what's happened. He said something when we were in the restaurant about returning to normalcy. We need to try and give him that, I think. It's what he's asked for."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that because you want whiskey?" Annabeth asked teasingly.

Percy smiled, although it was strained and humourless, more of an automatic response than a genuine expression of amusement. "Well, there is that," he said. "Look, I don't know much about this stuff, okay? But I want Nico to get better and I want him to feel safe and I want him to feel normal. I don't want to play this part around him all the time. I don't want to rebuild everything based on a lie." He took a sip of the Irish coffee as if to underline this point, enjoying the burn as it went down just as much as he had previously.

"So… do you think I should offer him some when he comes out of the bathroom?" Rachel asked.

Percy shrugged. "I guess? It's up to him to say no if he thinks it won't be good for him. I know that sounds dumb, trusting an addict to say no, but I can't chain him up in my apartment for the rest of his life. He's going to have to be out in the real world at some point with a lot worse than an Irish coffee lurking around every single corner. Besides, he's had booze before, even if he is ridiculously underage. And I do trust him. He wants this so much. He's way stronger than pretty much anyone I've ever known."

"And stubborn," Annabeth muttered, although with a fondness to her voice.

Percy was sitting next to Annabeth and he bumped her shoulder with his. "Really? _You're_ calling people stubborn now?"

"You went to a strip club and a god could have killed you," Annabeth said, taking a sip of her coffee. She flashed an overly sweet smile at Percy, the kind that came with the kick of diabetes behind it. "Don't make the ice you're on any thinner."

Percy rolled his eyes and smiled, choosing to remain silent as he took another sip of his coffee.

"I hope you're right about Nico," Rachel said to Percy, gnawing on her bottom lip. "I feel so _stupid. _I don't know what to do with myself around him anymore. All I want to do is help, but it's like… ever since I saw what happened with Mimas I feel like he's made of glass. I keep expecting him to break. I don't get how he's up and walking around. I don't know how _I'm _up and walking around and I only saw it. It was bad."

She sat back down hard on her stool, marking the beginning of a period of silence that spun itself out over them, neatly segmented by the ticking of the grandfather clock.

"Is he okay in there?" Annabeth said suddenly, looking down at her watch. "He's been gone a while."

Percy's head snapped up. The blood had drained from his face, as if something had just occurred to him that he should have thought of long ago. "_Shit_," he hissed. "Rachel, what do you have in your bathroom cabinet?"

Rachel blinked at him and shook her head, reeling from the sudden ferocity of Percy's gaze as if he'd reached out across the island and slapped her. In the end she managed to stammer, "I-I don't know. Uh, tampons, dental floss, toothpaste? Um…"

"I'm talking about pills," Percy clarified quickly.

Rachel's eyes widened. Her mind had gone totally blank; she felt like her body had just fallen through the surface of a frozen lake. "Oh gods, Percy. Uh… I don't know. Tylenol, probably. Maybe some aspirin and some Advil?" Her mind churned away. Now that it seemed so important, it was like she'd never opened her bathroom cabinet and looked inside before.

"Anything else?" Percy pressed, getting to his feet. "He has a… habit of going through bathroom cabinets."

Rachel struggled to think; it felt like her head was going to burst and yet it was so empty at the same time it was almost comical. Then she closed her eyes. "Restoril," she said in a low voice. "Oh, gods. My mother gave them to me so I could get some sleep to get rid of my 'dreadful' eye bags." The bottom fell out of Rachel's stomach; she felt like she was going to be sick.

Percy was gone before she had even finished speaking; both Annabeth and Rachel exchanged glances over the island and slid off their stools as well, following Percy with hurried footsteps. He was already at the door trying the handle, but the door was locked.

Percy knocked quietly on the door. "Nico?" he called. "Are you okay in there?"

Rachel had her head in her hands. She groaned into her fingers, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I am so mad at myself. How stupid can I get?" She sounded dangerously close to tears and Annabeth immediately flung an arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, it's not your fault," Annabeth said.

Rachel acted as if she hadn't heard Annabeth. "If he has taken just one of those pills I am never going to forgive myself," she said fiercely in a low voice. "I don't even _take _the ridiculous things. They're not even _mine. _I don't even keep them in my bathroom; I just dumped them in there and forgot that they were there. My mom has decided that there must be something wrong with me because of my total lack of boyfriend so she's onto this kick about how it must be the way I look driving the men away. So she's decided I need knock-out pills so I can stop having eye bags I can carry groceries in — her words, not mine. I shoved them in there and… yeah. Forgot about them."

Percy knocked on the door again. "Nico?" he called, with more volume and force in his voice now. "Nico, open the door." He tried the door handle again, his knuckles glowing white as he fought against the lock.

"Why isn't he answering?" Rachel asked, taking her head out of her hands. Her eyes were glistening with tears. One knock and Percy calling out without an answer she could maybe understand; two, and something was up. She didn't need any of the gifts Apollo had given her to imagine that Nico had probably found the pills in the bathroom cabinet by now and if he hadn't taken them already was probably seriously messed up about the whole thing.

And all of it was her fault.

"It will be okay. We don't even know he's found the pills," Annabeth said. "There could be an entirely innocent explanation for this."

Rachel turned to look at Annabeth, an eyebrow arched. "Right," she snorted. "_Sure._"

Annabeth sighed. "Okay, so that's probably bullshit. But look, you got the pills a long time before Nico came back, right?" she tried soothingly. "How were you supposed to know that Nico was going to end up being the way he is, never mind know that you should throw out a vial of pills just in case he dropped by to use your bathroom? You are _not _to blame."

"I'm the Oracle," Rachel said. Her jaw was set into a sharp line but tears continued to wobble dangerously, threatening to drop from her eyes, as she looked up at Annabeth. "I am the fucking Oracle, Annabeth. It's my _job _to know."

The millstone of impossibly heavy green mist dangling from her neck got heavier, dragging her further down into the depths.

She threw her head back and let out a long breath through her mouth, taking a few beats to stare at the ceiling and trying to rein in her emotions. Her attempts failed and her head snapped back forwards, her eyes burning with laser intensity on the closed bathroom door. With her fists balled, she strode over to it and barged Percy aside with her elbow.

"Nico!" she yelled, hammering on the door with her fist. "I am not Percy. I am not going to be nice about this. Open this door or I will kick your non-existent ass, got it?"

Percy took a step back from the bathroom door, blinking at Rachel and absently rubbing his shoulder where she'd shoved him. "Okay," he said quietly to Annabeth, drawing the word out and looking at Rachel with a mixture of pity and fear. "Just when you think you've seen every scary side of Rachel…"

Rachel spun around. "Percy, kick the door in," she said sharply, jerking her thumb at it.

Percy frowned. "W-what?" he asked.

Rachel's nostrils flared. "Look, I can't stand here not knowing," she said, a hint of desperation in her voice. "I screwed up, Percy. This is on me. So please, just kick it in. I'm serious. _Help_ him before he does something stupid, before he erases everything he's worked so hard for. If he relapses now, then who's to say we'll get him back this time? I will never, ever forgive myself if…"

Percy hesitated, looking from the door and back to Annabeth and Rachel. "I'm going to try talking him down one more time," he said.

"He's not answering!" Rachel bit out, jabbing a finger at the bathroom door. At last the tears began to fall and she angrily swiped them from her cheeks. When she spoke again her voice was quieter, although emotion burbled through it. "How can you talk him down when he won't talk to you?"

Percy bit his lip, tapping his hand nervously on his thigh. "Okay," he said eventually. "Okay. Look, I know this is going to sound dumb but can you two… go for a walk or something? Go outside. Get some air. Clear your heads. Nico… one of the things he's most scared of is failing, not for himself but for everyone else. He keeps thinking he's letting everyone down. _If _he's screwed up in there, just let him do it in front of me rather than a bigger audience, okay? I think that will be easier for him."

"I can't go for a _walk,_" Annabeth said, screwing up her face in distaste. "Are you crazy? I can't just take a stroll around the block when Nico might be in there falling apart in there. That's not me."

"Or me," Rachel said.

Percy ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not saying you don't care about him," he said. "I know you both do. But I think it will be easier if you're not here. Just for a while."

Annabeth and Rachel looked at each other and then reached mutual consent.

"We'll go wait in my room," Rachel said, threading her arm through Annabeth's. "That's as far as you're going to get us to go."

Percy opened his mouth to protest but it was obvious to him that nothing he could say was going to make either of them change their minds. Wearily, his shoulders slumped and he nodded his assent, watching as they both turned and crossed the apartment to Rachel's bedroom, shutting the door behind them. He leaned against the bathroom doorjamb harder than he meant to, his shoulder slamming into the wood. Suddenly, he was incredibly grateful for its support, the strain of holding himself upright not apparent until he didn't have to do it anymore. He felt like he was slowly succumbing to some immense pressure weighing down on him from above; the suffocating mass of the sky all over again would have been a welcome exchange for the weight of responsibility for Nico's health and wellbeing right now.

"Nico, it's just you and me," he said quietly. "Just like before. There's no one else here. Talk to me, okay?"

Still nothing.

Percy closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nico, you know I can open the door, right? I don't need you to do it for me. And I will, because…" He hesitated. "I will because you're _scaring _me," he said eventually. "You are scaring the crap out of me out here, man. I just want you to be okay. It's all any of us want."

Silence rumbled for an eternity; the ticking of the grandfather clock was so loud in its folds that it started to sound like gunshots. Percy still hadn't opened his eyes. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to. It was suddenly dawning on him that no matter how normal things may seem with Nico, under the surface there was always going to be his addiction. There was always going to be something else to go wrong. The juxtaposition between now and then was so huge it felt like he'd got whiplash jerking from one to the other. He could kick himself for being so complacent, for letting his guard down, but just minutes ago everything had seem so fine, so normal, and now…

"Okay," Percy said, opening his eyes. "Fine. Nico, I'm coming in."

He pressed a hand to the bathroom door and took breath in through his nose. The humidity and moisture trapped inside the wood leapt to his command and began to swell against the doorframe. Beads of moisture glittered on the back of his hand as he poured more water in through the paint and the varnish until, with a satisfying crunch, the wood of the door and the frame around the lock split. Water dribbled from the crack as the door swung inwards a few inches before getting lodged against the floor in its swollen state.

Percy barged his way through the door; it shuddered haltingly across the grey slate floor as he entered the bathroom.

"Nico?" he called, his eyes darting around the space that seemed claustrophobically small in comparison to the rest of Rachel's apartment but was, in reality, yawning widely before him.

The enormous sink was a grey stone drinking trough for cattle which Rachel had dug out of a pile of weeds somewhere upstate and refashioned into a sink. It was stood on a custom-built plinth directly opposite the door with a wide mirror over it. The mirror reflected the open bathroom cabinet, which was on the wall to Percy's left. Under Percy's feet, the pale grey slate seemed to glow under the overhead bulbs. In one corner, a glass screen enclosed a walk-in shower cubicle, which was bristling with knobs, spouts and spigots.

"Here."

The voice was small, tiny, infinitesimal; it was thickened with tears and was emanating from behind the bathroom door.

Percy turned around. The bathroom door opened inwards and behind it was oval bathtub, sitting in the corner diagonally opposite to the shower. Although it hadn't been found in a field, it was grey on the outside and around the rim to match the stone trough used as a sink; inside it was gleaming white. Nico was sat in it, scrunched at one end with his legs drawn up to his chest and his chin resting on his knees. His hands had vanished inside the hoodie Percy had loaned him, which suddenly looked like it was doing more than drowning him; now it was doing its best to consume him entirely. His face was pale and evidence of recent tears clung stickily to his cheeks.

"I think you're meant to take your clothes off before you get in the tub," Percy said, purely because it was something to say.

Nico looked up at him. His eyes were hollow, haunted, and he was clearly in no mood for Percy's weak attempts at humour. "It just seemed safe," he mumbled, shrugging listlessly. "Safe. I don't know. Maybe that's why they tell you to get in the bathtub if there's a tornado, so you can feel _safe_. Until the tornado comes and rips your house apart and tosses your corpse ten miles."

Percy studied Nico for a beat and then swung his leg over the side of the tub, climbing in at the opposite end to Nico.

"What are you doing?" Nico asked, scrunching up his nose and eyeing his cousin like Percy had gone mad. "Get out of the tub."

"No. It's a big tub," Percy said with a shrug. "Especially if you scooch up."

"I _am _schooched up," Nico muttered darkly as Percy sank down to sit into the tub proper.

"Yeah, well, you're tiny," Percy said affably, squirming as he settled down. They were pressed knees-to-knees now. "I need more room than you." He knocked a loofah with his elbow and it slid noisily into the bath; he examined it briefly before tossing it over his shoulder. It hit the heated towel rail and clanged against it. "Oops."

"Is there anything you can do quietly?" Nico asked.

Percy considered. "Sleep, I guess," he said. "I've pretty much got that down."

"Yeah, you talk in your sleep," Nico informed him bluntly, sticking his thumbnail in his mouth and beginning to chew.

"I do _not_!" Percy protested. "Did Annabeth tell you to say that?"

"My ears told me to say that," Nico said. "I heard you last night. Something about the ketchup escaping."

Percy folded his arms over his chest defensively. "Really? Annabeth says I talk in my sleep, too, but I think I'd know…"

"You talk in your sleep," Nico repeated. "Facts are facts. Proof you can't even sleep quietly."

He had taken his thumbnail out of his mouth briefly to speak and now lodged it back in again. Percy noticed as Nico did so that there was blood on his cousin's little finger from where Nico had already chewed at least one nail down to the quick.

"Nico… what are we doing?" Percy asked.

"Well, if what Piper says is true then by sharing a bath we're getting a lot of Aphrodite girls hot under the collar," Nico said.

"Can you be serious for a minute?" Percy asked. "Just for a minute, Nico, please. Cut the snark."

"Although to be honest, they probably imagine a lot more bubbles and a lot less clothing than we've got now," Nico said, as if he hadn't heard Percy.

Percy raised a leg and nudged Nico's knee with his foot. "Nope. That's not going to cut it. Tell me: what's going on?"

"You know what's going on," Nico said quietly. "If you didn't know then you wouldn't have broken the door in. You and Annabeth and Rachel all know that I'm in here screwing up. The whole world probably knows I'm in here screwing up, or if they don't know then they're probably assuming it. It's what I do best, right? Fuck up?"

Nico's eyes flicked to the side of the bath. Almost blending in perfectly with the gleaming grey porcelain of the edge bath was a neat row of little blue caplets, meticulously lined up next to the wall at Nico's elbow.

Percy's felt his heart stutter; his first instinct was to reach out and take them, swipe them into the bath and down the drain underneath him, but he managed to stop himself. He didn't want Nico to think that he was angry at him, because he really wasn't. Scared for his cousin, worried, pitying… but not mad. This wasn't Nico's fault any more than it was Rachel's fault for having the pills in the first place.

"22.5 milligrams," Nico said, parroting the fact like it was a Mythomagic stat but without any of the associated glee he had first got from it, back when Percy had first met him all those years ago. That glee had been replaced with a maudlin, robotic drawl, although there was a minor undercurrent of Nico being impressed at the pills' strength. "The only ones stronger than this are the 30s. Who is Rachel's mom trying to knock out, a freaking charging rhino?"

"How did you know they're Rachel's mom's?" Percy asked.

Nico's throat worked and he stared at the bottom of the tub, deliberately avoiding Percy's gaze. Eventually, he wriggled his fist out of the hoodie; clutched in it was a pill bottle. He handed it to Percy, whose eyes swept the label to find out that they were indeed prescribed to Rachel's mom.

"I can't even go to the bathroom by myself," Nico said. He rubbed his eyes long and hard with the heels of his hands. "I can't even go to the bathroom by myself without raiding my so-called friend's bathroom cabinet. What kind of friend am I to go snooping through all of their shit? What is wrong with me, Percy?"

"Nothing," Percy said. "Nico, there is nothing wrong with you. You're just… I don't know. You're in the grips of something that's stronger than you at the moment but you can be stronger than it — one day, you _will _be stronger than it."

Nico looked up at Percy; his stare was long and bleak and although Nico wasn't crying bullshit it was obvious he was thinking it. Around his eyes, purple-grey shadows stood out starkly against his pale face and he looked exhausted, like he might drop any minute.

"Look, you're allowed to have moments like this," Percy said. "No one is expecting you to just snap your fingers and suddenly be fine. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Nico locked his gaze onto the wall over Percy's shoulder and didn't reply.

Percy held out the empty pill bottle, bridging the tiny gap between them. "Time to put them back, huh?"

For a long time, Nico couldn't make his arms move to take the bottle. Percy held it between them and it lingered there for what seemed to Nico like an unacceptably long time before he finally reached out and took it.

"Look…" Percy began. "Just so I don't freak out if you fall into a coma like a downed rhino… did you take any?"

Nico picked up a capsule and held it up at eye level between his thumb and forefinger until the blue dye started to come off the shell and bleed into the depressions of his fingerprints. Percy held his breath; he was acutely aware of the blood pounding in his ears as he waited for Nico's answer. Then the pill Nico was holding plinked it down into the bottle.

"No," Nico said quietly, shaking his head as he picked up another pill and dropped it back in the bottle, wishing there was a faster, less slow and deliberate method of returning them. "No, I didn't. But I _wanted_ _to_, Percy. I wanted to so badly. And if you hadn't started knocking on the bathroom door… I don't know."

"But you _didn't_," Percy said. "You wanted to, but you _said no_. That's huge, you get that, right? I'm really proud of you."

Nico snorted, dropping another pill back in the bottle, which was clenched between his knees. "You're proud of _this_?" he demanded, gesturing to himself with one hand. "I am a mess. I'm only putting these back in the bottle now because you're here. If you hadn't turned up… At the end of the day, I saw one little half empty bottle of prescription meds and I'm hiding in a bath. That's the bottom line."

"It doesn't matter where you are. It doesn't matter if you're in a bath or on top of freaking Everest or wherever. As long as you're saying no, then who gives a shit? Seriously."

Nico managed a small, anaemic ghost of a smile. "This doesn't feel like victory," he said hollowly. "Call me crazy, Percy, but this doesn't feel like I won. And it doesn't give me great hope that I'm going to be able to keep this up."

"I think you will," Percy said. "I believe it."

Again that same ghost of a smile from Nico, but this one came with a healthy dose of condescension, like Nico knew something Percy didn't and Percy was nothing but naïve.

"I wish I did," he said. "Gods, I wish I did. But you don't need to be Rachel to know that the path that's ahead of me is littered with these freaking huge chasms of doom and I'm going to fall into them. Maybe all of them. And I don't know if I'll be able to stop falling once I start."

"What, you think I'm going to let you freefall forever?" Percy asked. "Seriously? As if."

Nico stayed quiet until he'd finished putting the pills back in the bottle. He screwed the lid back on with a healthy crunch of the childproof cap.

"I don't want you to stop me," he said.

Percy blinked. "_What_? I thought you wanted to get clean. I thought—"

Nico shook his head violently, cutting Percy off. "No, not like that. I mean, I do want to get clean and I don't want to fall into them but if I do... I don't want you to spend your whole life hovering over me and waiting for me to fall down so you can pick me up. How is that fair, Percy? How is my screw-ups come around and bite _you _in the ass is fair? It's not. It's just… _not._"

"I'm not going to have to do it forever," Percy said. "I believe that."

Again Nico snorted, pushing away the hair that had fallen into his face as a result of his head shaking. "Yeah, I'm not sure even you can sell that one," he said. "This could ruin your life. _I _could ruin your life."

"Nico, you _deserve _help," Percy said fiercely. "I don't care if you don't think so, you _do_. What you went through with Mimas and everything else… You already paid off your debt to the entire world. You're in so much credit it's crazy. The world owes you help, and that help would be me. No one is forcing me to do this: I _want_ to. Don't think that you're holding me back or being a burden because that's just crap, and don't sell yourself short like that. One day, you're going to beat this."

"Am I?" Nico asked. "Right now, it doesn't seem like I am."

"Do you think that's because you're sitting fully-clothed in an empty bath?" Percy asked.

Nico didn't smile this time. He was running a finger over the ridges in the cap of the pill bottle, tracing them round and round. He seemed hypnotised by it, his eyes glassy as he did so.

"One day you're going to hate me," he told Percy, his gaze still locked on the middle distance. "One day I'm going to screw up, properly this time, and you're going to hate me. Or you're going to get sick of always having to stop me from screwing up and you'll hate me for it. I am going to become… I don't know, this dead weight in your life and you're going to want to do nothing but cut me loose. I need you to do it now, before you hate me, because even though I know I deserve it, I'm not sure I could live with you hating me."

"I told you, you're not a burden," Percy said. "You are not holding me back. And there is no way I am ever going to hate you or cut you loose. You're stuck with me."

"You're sitting fully-clothed in an empty bath," Nico pointed out, parroting Percy's earlier words back at him. "How is this not holding you back?"

"Because this is exactly where I want to be," Percy said immediately, stretching out and settling down into the bath to prove his point, taking up even more room, much to Nico's chagrin. "You'd be holding me back if I didn't want to be here, or I had something better to do, but I don't. And I'm not going to find anything I'd rather be doing, either. Hanging out with you, helping you… I'm doing what I want to do and that's this. I'm not going to hate you. I'm not going to cut you loose. I'm just going to promise that I will be here for you no matter what, okay? If we have to sit in every bathtub in Manhattan we will. As long as they're empty. I mean, I'd be fine, but I don't want you getting all prune-y and gross."

Percy watched Nico try to figure out some other excuse for why Percy would be better off without him and fail. Eventually, a tear slid wobbled at the outer edge of Nico's eye for a moment before zipping down his cheek.

Nico sniffed and cuffed his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. "I've done so many things wrong. I messed up so many times. I just… Gods. I don't know what I did to deserve you," he said.

Percy shrugged. "Nope, I don't get it either. Let's just assume it was in a previous life."

Nico managed a snort of laughter through a heavily-bunged nostril. "Dick," he said, flinging a rolled-up washcloth which was resting on the side of the bath at Percy.

Percy swatted the washcloth aside. "Bath-sitter. But seriously, Nico. I've said this over and over again, but you are not to blame for anything that happened to you. It's not your fault that Mimas captured you and what he forced you to do isn't your fault, either. It's not your fault what happened with your father and that whole mess with Derek and Him? Yeah, guess what? That wasn't your fault. You are not to blame for any of this. Maybe you did make some bad decisions along the line but you made them because you'd been the victim of a whole bunch of people and circumstances. You can't blame yourself for what happened. You didn't mess up, you've been messed up, and there's a big difference."

"It feels like I did," Nico said.

"Well, ignore that feeling," Percy said. "Ignore it because it's wrong."

Nico's fingers slowed on the lid of the pill bottle now. His mouth was twisted in thought. Then he handed Percy the pills. "I know this isn't really worth anything," he said, "but thank you. I know I keep saying it and I know that I'm not acting that thankful right now, but… yeah." He paused. "I think I'm ready to get out of the bath now."

"Good," Percy said. "Because I am sitting on the drain and it hurts like a bitch." He stood up and stretched, then held his hand out to Nico to haul him to his feet. Together, they stepped out of the bath. "You're going to be okay, you hear me? No matter what. Together, we've got this."

Nico nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I know you do."


	14. Chapter 14

**I just owe everyone the biggest apology right now. I am so, so sorry that I have taken so long to get this up. I just don't know where the time goes, I really don't, but it doesn't go into fun things like my writing, that's for damn sure. However, I have 4,000 words of the next chapter written (this was actually supposed to be one chapter but it got waaaaaaaaaaaaay too unwieldy) and I also have something else written that I'll post soon, so there will be more from me and more regularly in the near future, hopefully before April is out.**

**As usual, thank you one and all for just being so fantastic. I know I have review replies from back to December that I need to get on to, but I just want to take the opportunity to take you all now before I get around to doing it in person. You make this fic what it is as much as I do. Thank you for your support so far.**

**And thank you, as always, to JJDracula, who provided the spark and the kindling to get this fic ablaze in my head. I owe her for this — it's such a pleasure to write, I do sometimes feel like I should be paying her or something.**

**Anyway, chapter is below. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.  
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**Marzipan.**

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><p>"This would be a lot quicker if I'd just shadow travelled," Nico grumbled, plodding along next to Percy with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He hunched his shoulders against the wind blowing around the corner of a building, glowering as he did so. It was after midnight and the sidewalk was empty apart from him and Percy, which Nico found unusual but couldn't tell if he was overreacting or not. Maybe even the city that never slept had to take a break sometimes, but the eerie quiet emptiness was unnerving him. They'd just dropped Annabeth off at her building and were now making their way back to Percy's apartment.<p>

"You just got your powers back," Percy said. "You haven't even taken yourself from one end of the room to the other yet, let alone transported you and two passengers across town. I'm totally with Annabeth on not wanting to end up in China tonight."

"That was _one time_!" Nico protested in frustration. "Once! And besides, I was aiming for China _Town. _I just got a little bit too… carried away. Authentic. Plus, I was a total newb back then. I'm all over it now. I can do a few blocks as easy as blinking. You just wanted to walk because Annabeth didn't want me to jump. You don't have to do everything she says, you know."

Percy made a face and held out his hand, tilting it from side to side to show that he wasn't so sure about that.

Nico wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. Do I need to break out the whip cracking sound effects?" he asked.

"Hey, listening to Annabeth tell me to be cautious is probably at least half of what's kept me alive so far. Besides, what's wrong with walking?" Percy asked, darting forward in front of Nico and turning around to walk backwards. He grinned at Nico, spreading his arms, although as his hands were embedded deep in his jacket pockets it made him look like he was going to attempt to flap away.

Nico scowled at him

"Fine," Percy said, rolling his eyes heavily. "At least think of the cardio workout."

"Hanging around with you, I'll probably be getting plenty of cardio what with all the running for my life," Nico said. "Monster magnet."

"Hey pot, I've got kettle on line one for you. He wants you to know that you're black," Percy said, his grin widening. "Seriously, dude, don't start throwing around that kind of accusation. It sucks to be a hypocrite."

Nico sighed and found himself smiling despite everything. His face was unaccustomed to it and it actually began to ache within a few seconds. "You know as well as I do that you have been in way more trouble than me with monsters."

Percy blew air out through his lips contemptuously. "Please," he said. "You're still a baby. You've got plenty of time to break my record. Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

Nico cocked an eyebrow at him. "Missing," he said. "I've had a few too many _adventures _and I think I burned through it. And I thought you said Annabeth telling you to be cautious had kept you alive?"

"I said that was _half_ of it," Percy corrected. "The rest is pretty much knowing which end of Riptide to jam in things. And prayer. And oh my gods, like a boatload of luck that I'm still waiting to run out on me. Plus, you know, I'm just generally awesome at ass-kicking."

"And so modest about it," Nico said dryly. "Okay, so tell me: are you really saying going toe-to-toe with gorgons is your idea of a good time?"

Percy shrugged, frowning vaguely at something over Nico's shoulder as he tried to place a memory. "I think I actually had a date with Annabeth that ended that way," he said. "Like… maybe two years in? Anyway, FYI, Stethno is deadly allergic to garlic. Thank the gods Annabeth was still trying to cook at that point and had come up with lasagne with about fifty bulbs of it in. Long story short, after we'd sent them back to Tartarus, what with all the fighting…" He took a deep breath and smiled fondly. "Well, let's just say it was a pretty successful date night."

Nico stopped dead and shook his head hard. He looked like his stomach had just staged a coup. "Oh, wow, that's… I didn't need that mental imagery. Thanks, Percy, really. I mean, are you _trying_ to make me puke my guts up in the gutter or…?"

Again Percy grinned and shrugged affably. "Hey," he said. "You asked."

Nico looked at Percy like his cousin had just spouted another head and hook his own head slowly in disbelief. "No, I _really _didn't," he said. "When did I ask for that mental scarring to be inflicted?" He paused. "Wait, now I'm done being grossed out, speaking of things inflicted on me, did I hear that right? Annabeth has quit cooking? I'm safe?"

Percy nodded sagely. "After two oven fires and this one time where a whole bunch of microwave individual servings of macaroni cheese ended up with molten plastic garnish, Rachel and I sat her down and had an intervention. Her utensils pot is now a vase and the oven has been converted into the world's first ever library of takeout menus with its own decimal system."

"And people say the gods aren't merciful," Nico said. "Thank Olympus."

"I got invited to holiday drinks with the families of about seventeen different delivery men one year," Percy said. "Think about the number of Christmas cards we have to write now before you start talking about mercy."

Again, Nico found himself smiling. Sometimes, Percy was too damn infectious, although it was probably just what he needed after his mini bathroom breakdown earlier. The smile slid off his face as he thought about it and how close he'd been to screwing everything up. It would have been so easy, and that scared the crap out of him. If Percy hadn't come in when he had then Nico was pretty sure he knew what would have happened, and the thought of it turned his stomach.

"Percy, about earlier…" Nico started, carefully examining the paving stones.

Percy withdrew his hand from his pocket and waved it. "Forget it," he said. "Seriously, Nico. As if it never happened, okay? I know what I signed up for. You're going to have wobbles but we'll deal with it. Just like we just did. Anyway, I hardly did anything. Well, except for get the imprint of the bath plug on my ass. Most of what happened there was you."

Nico sighed and ducked his head further. He wasn't sure Percy realised just how hard _everything _was right now. It had taken all he had to say no to those stupid pills in Rachel's bathroom, and he couldn't imagine doing that over and over forever.

He was about to open his mouth to argue when a strange sound drifted domineeringly towards them, surging off the buildings on either side of them like a pinball and reverberating on the air. Nico could practically see the individual air molecules quivering and singing like tuning forks as the haunting melody meandered its way over concrete and around steel.

"What is that?" Nico breathed, stopping dead and not wanting to speak above a whisper in case it drowned out the beautiful sound. He turned slowly on the spot, swaying in time to the tune, his eyes glazing over as his ears went into overdrive.

The sound was so familiar, so comforting, that immediately Nico felt warmer and _safe _in a way he hadn't felt for the longest time, not since—

"Mammà?" he asked the dark street, his voice cracking on the word.

He closed his eyes, allowing the darkness behind his eyelids to transport him back to the time where his mother held him in her lap and sang this same song to him. Whenever he got sick, she would hold him and rock him and sing him this song. It had to be her. It _had _to be. He began to retrace their steps down the street, fingers trailing absently along the walls of buildings as he did so. When he found her, he would be safe. Bianca would be there, and everything would be okay. He knew that she could smooth away everything that had gone wrong in his life as easily as she smoothed his hair.

"I'm coming," he said to no one, breaking into a run as a half-sob tore at his chest in desperation. He had wanted this so much, more than anything, and now it was coming true.

The song grew louder, compensating for his ragged breathing and pounding feet. It even drowned out the sound of Percy's running; Nico hadn't even realised his cousin was chasing him until Percy, blessed with longer legs and not having dedicated the past couple of years to sitting on his backside getting high, caught up with him. As Percy moved to pass Nico, he barged the younger demigod out of the way without a second glance. Nico lost his footing and stumbled, falling off the curb and into a parked car so hard he snapped the wing mirror off on his way down.

As if the ringing in his head from the impact wasn't bad enough, the car immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. The headlights and blinkers all came to life and a shrill alarm pierced the air, accompanied intermittently by long, low blasts of the horn. Nico clapped his hands over his ears and pushed himself away from the car, his feet crunching on shards of mirror as he did so. The alarm totally blocked out his mother's song, filling his head and the entire street, echoing back at him through the manmade canyon between the buildings.

Why had he been running? Where had he been running to? His mother was long dead and so was his sister. It couldn't have been them at the other end of the song. It didn't make _sense_.

Percy was still moving forward, though. He was half a street away from Nico with his forehead creased into a tight frown as he tried to discern whatever it was that they had been hearing over the noise of the car alarm. He was no longer running; instead, he was taking faltering steps forward, his facial expression a tumultuous pool which read confusion one minute and desire the next. He kept glancing back at the blaring car and Nico before something took over and his head swivelled back forwards.

"Percy!" Nico yelled. "Percy, something weird is going on. Listen to my voice. We need to get out of here. _Now_."

Percy shook his head and started making more confident steps away from Nico, away from the noise of the car alarm that was so effective in drowning everything out for Nico.

Nico gritted his teeth and looked around him desperately, his eyes coming to rest on the glassless shell of the wing mirror lying in the gutter.

"And he says he's not a monster magnet," Nico muttered, picking the mirror up and testing the weight of it in his hand. The car Percy had ploughed him into was part of a long line parked on the street; squinting through the darkness, he hurled it as hard as he could over the roofs of the cars between him and Percy. It sailed through the air in a lazy arc before coming to rest squarely in the middle of the windshield of a car right next to Percy. The safety glass spiderwebbed under the impact, the blow leaving a head-sized impression in the centre.

That car clearly objected strenuously to having the severed appendages of its comrades hurled almost onto the backseat and started up a chorus of its very own, if anything louder than the first. Percy came to an abrupt halt, almost tripping over his feet as he did so. He blinked hard, looking like he was emerging from a deep sleep, and scratched the back of his head. He looked curiously at the car and then back at Nico, his head cocked, before walking back towards his cousin, still glancing uneasily over his shoulder.

"What the hell _was _that?" Percy asked shakily, extracting Riptide from his pocket and uncapping it. The dim light from the blade washed out his face, highlighting the fear etched into his features. "I swear to the gods, if that music had asked me to jump in front of a subway train to get to it…"

"Yeah," Nico said, holding out his palm towards Percy, which was bleeding from the spill he'd taken. "I noticed."

Percy winced apologetically. "Ow. Yeah, sorry about that. I was kind of…" An epiphany burst into life in his head like burning magnesium powder, blasting away his earlier confusion but making his stomach drop. He remembered Annabeth's desperate swim and her kicking him in the face all those years ago and his blood turned to ice. "Oh crap," he hissed. "Nico, everything I said about shadow travelling? Forget it. We need to get out of here."

"Uh, yeah, _I know_," Nico said scornfully. "I already said that, but you were too busy ploughing into me to notice, apparently. Anyway, what's with the escape plan? I thought you said you liked killing monsters?"

Percy shook his head, switching Riptide nervously from hand to hand and searching the street. "Not these monsters," he said tersely. "In fact, I don't even know if they _can _be killed. I don't know anyone who's succeeded. I mean, they're pretty much—"

The car alarms squawked like two giant, noisy birds being trampled by an elephant and silence reigned once more. It rang deafeningly back at them after the intrusion of the car alarms; they got just a few seconds of roaring silence before the first few notes of the same melody began to creep back in.

Percy grabbed Nico's arm. "Get us out of here," he said. "Back to the apartment. I'll explain there."

Nico didn't need to be told twice. The song had already started to tug on his heart again and he didn't like it; it made him feel like someone else's puppet, and he'd had enough of that to last a lifetime. There were plenty of shadows to bend to his command and he threw them around them both, vanishing from the street.

Nico always found the screaming darkness of shadow travelling comforting, but never in his life had he been more grateful to let it envelop him and block out all other sights and sounds.

* * *

><p>They reappeared back in the middle of Percy's apartment. Percy didn't even pause to turn on the lights; he immediately took enormous strides away from Nico, expertly skirting around the furniture until he got to the coffee table.<p>

"Where did I put it…?" he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, his eyes darting wildly across the surface of the coffee table. He used the flat of Riptide to scatter the empty fast food containers and soda cans and other detritus, but apparently didn't find what he was looking for. "Dammit," he said savagely, spinning on the spot and beginning to tear the couch apart, tossing cushions and Nico's bedding over his shoulder as he did so. "Annabeth would _love _this."

Nico's forehead was wrinkled in concern. Has his cousin finally cracked under the pressure of being Percy Jackson, the almighty chosen one, saviour of the world? He crossed to the light switches by the door and flipped them on, illuminating the whole of the apartment. Percy barely noticed.

"Annabeth would love _what_?" Nico asked. He reached instinctively for his sword, the first time for a long time he'd done that, but then he remembered that he wasn't wearing it. He needed to get back into the habit of having it on him at all times after spending so long without it. Going to Rachel's apartment hadn't felt like it would be a monster-fest and having possession of his sword was so new that he had barely thought about taking it. It was still propped up against the table in the kitchen and he grabbed it now, buckling it around his waist and letting his hand rest comfortingly on the hilt.

"She's always telling me that I need to tidy up, that I'll never be able to find anything, and one day I'll see that she's right," Percy said tersely. He finished pulling the couch apart, apparently without success, and began yanking out the drawers in the coffee table and rifling through them. "Didn't think it would happen, let alone in a situation like _this _but here we are. I can't believe she was right _again_." He ran a distracted hand through his hair, straightening up and kicking the last drawer closed in frustration.

"Percy, you're freaking me out," Nico said. "What is going on? What was that singing? And what are you looking for? It's been a while since I've had to fight for my life so this kind of thing could make me panic, you know?"

Percy dragged a hand down his face, pausing it on his chin. His eyes were roving around the apartment but unseeingly; Nico could practically see the cogs turning behind them. "I've heard that song before," he said. "Well, obviously, I haven't heard it before because I'd be dead and stuff, but Annabeth has heard it before. I had to rescue her from it. Years ago. When we were looking for the Golden Fleece and sailing through the Sea of Monsters, we had to sail past the Island of the Sirens. Annabeth, she—"

"She wanted to hear the song and ended up going overboard," Nico cut in with. "Yeah, thanks. I've heard all the stories about what a great hero you were even when you were, what, twelve? It's just this great way to feel good about myself, you know? Anyway, I don't think we have time for memory lane here, Perce. Sorry to cut the trip short."

Percy smiled at him. "I'm sensing misplaced anger. I can't help being awesome."

"Hey, I threw that mirror back there," Nico said. "I should have just let them eat you. Ingrate."

Percy opened his mouth to retaliate but then he shook his head. It was almost as if a switch had been thrown and suddenly he was deadly seriously. "Later is the time for dealing with your inadequacy issues," Percy said. "Right now, I need to find my— armchair!"

"Your _armchair_?" Nico asked, totally lost and still wondering if he needed to call the men in white coats for his cousin. Then he decided that, with the Sirens bearing down on them, he'd probably wait until after the battle to have Percy committed. He needed all the firepower he could get, crazy or not.

"It's where I last had it!" Percy said, snatching up a couch cushion and brandishing a battered iPod triumphantly at Nico, its headphone wires dancing jerkily up and down. He tossed it over the back of the couch and across the room towards Nico. "Put it on. Loud. You're going to need it."

"What about you?" Nico asked, snatching the iPod out of the air. "Don't tell me one of these abandoned containers of Chinese food has a supply of candlewax in?"

"Now that would be a serious perk of ordering Kung Pao chicken," Percy muttered. "Free gift with purchase: tools for monster slaying." He shrugged. "No, I'm fresh out of candlewax. I don't know. I'll think of something. I'll be okay."

"Like hell you will," Nico said, performing a quarter turn on the spot and vanishing into the shadows. He returned barely any time later with a second iPod clutched in his fist, which he threw back across the room at Percy.

"Did you just steal this?" Percy demanded, eyeing Nico disapprovingly instead of looking at it as he grabbed it out of the air.

Nico waved a hand. "Relax. Only from Rachel. By the way, I had to wake her. I told her it was your fault."

Percy threw his head back in exasperation. "Thanks. Well, let's hope the Sirens kill me," he muttered, pressing the earbuds into his ears despite himself. "I figure that would hurt way less. Rachel likes to sleep. A lot."

"Yup," Nico said, wincing. "It could be messy. Although, plus side? You could always toss her failure to predict the Sirens escaping their island and coming to eat us at her. She kinda dropped the ball."

"It doesn't work like that and you know it," Percy said. "You've been on the receiving end of the, 'I'm the Oracle, not a clairvoyant/psychic/lost and found office/supernatural weather girl' speech just as much as I have."

"How are they off the island, though?" Nico asked, putting in his own earbuds. "I thought they were meant to stick to the Sea of Monsters. There're not exactly a lot of sailors to lure to their deaths in Manhattan, you know? Why change their MO? _How _did they change their MO?"

"How is there a heavenly city above the Empire State Building?" Percy returned. "While it would be nice if all the things sent to kill me — _us_ — stuck to the rules that just never happens. Maybe they flew. They have wings. Maybe they made a boat out of coconuts. Probably caught the scent of two Big Three kids in the same place wafting down from the north without any messy wars this time to screw with their travel plans and decided to chance it. Who knows?"

Percy's thumb paused, hovering over the shuffle all songs option. He wasn't sure he wanted to subject himself to what Rachel's shuffle could bring, knowing full well Rachel's eclectic taste in music could leap from Bach to Korean pop music to death metal without pausing for breath. Then the sound of singing filled the apartment and Percy had no choice, stabbing his thumb down hard.

"Geronimo," he muttered, not sure whether he meant that more about Rachel's music library or the incoming Sirens.

Percy turned the volume to a level he was pretty sure would make his eardrums bleed before the whole thing was over and dropped the iPod down the inside of his shirt so the wire wouldn't be dangling in his way and risk getting yanked out. Then he shoved the iPod in his pocket as the opening riff to some vaguely country-sounding song blasted into his ears.

Well. He supposed it could be worse.

Then the Sirens started appearing all over the apartment, whooshing into view as a column of sea spray descending to the floor. They were ungainly on the ground like the vultures they resembled, shifting uneasily from clawed foot to clawed foot and leaving gouge marks in the wooden floor.

"Great, as if my neighbours don't hate me enough," Percy muttered as the water from the Sirens' entrance broke in waves across the floor. He had a sneaking suspicion his downstairs neighbours were going to have a very wet ceiling tonight.

The water hit Percy in the face and immediately knew it wasn't just water; it was tinged pink in the light and there were definite _chunks _in it, as if the Sirens were being hosed down by their method of transportation. His stomach clenched as he imagined being speckled with remnants of the last person who hadn't had a schizophrenic iPod on their side.

There were eight of them in all. Each spread their filthy grey wings, stained brown with blood dried to a crust, and Percy knew that they were singing through their blood-smeared mouths. He just hoped the iPods were enough to drown them out. He couldn't believe how fast he'd lost it back on the street as soon as he'd heard them. It had barely registered; first, he was just walking along and suddenly he was about to take his place on the Sirens' à la carte menu. It had shaken him up to know they had that kind of power over him and he reflexively tightened his grip on Riptide.

Percy looked across the room to Nico, who had drawn his sword and adopted a battle stance. He seemed paler even than usual, and Percy was acutely aware of what Nico had said not five minutes ago about it having been a while since he had had to fight for his life. They'd done it at Him's but Nico hadn't even had his sword then and you didn't just shake off a couple of years of rusty battle skills in an instant.

Still, Nico's jaw was set and his dark eyes were glinting dangerously, glaring as he slowly turned on the spot, trying to keep his eyes on all the Sirens at once. Maybe he was more prepared than Percy gave him credit for.

The Sirens weren't making a move — they were just standing around and singing. They thought they only needed to rely on that to get an easy meal and probably hadn't come prepared for a fight, but that didn't make them any less dangerous. Percy saw their faces shimmer and shift, twisting and morphing into his mom, Paul, Rachel, Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, anyone who they thought would look inviting to him. Percy snorted at their attempts, blocked successfully so far by the music blaring in his ears, which had moved on to some kind of tinkling piano concerto.

Then a small shudder ran down his spine and he looked over at Nico again, whose resolve seemed to be wavering slightly. Percy's eyes closed as he kicked himself. How could he have been so stupid? He'd experienced this once before — Nico was brand new at this. He'd never mentioned to Nico that the Sirens could mimic the most important people in your life, and pretty much everyone that important in Nico's life was dead. Only the gods knew whose faces Nico must be seeing on the Sirens' shoulders, but judging by the strangled look of pain on Nico's face, it was clearly seriously messing with him.

Percy took a step towards Nico but then the Sirens realised suddenly that their singing wasn't getting them anywhere and they stopped abruptly. The fleeting impersonations passing across their faces oozed gelatinously downwards, leaving their true faces contorted in anger. Percy caught Nico shake his head as the Sirens dropped their act like he was trying to dislodge the spell they'd held over him and relief flooded through him, underscored by the swelling of something with a deep bassline as the iPod changed tracks.

It didn't last long. One Siren leapt into the air, the downdraft from her wings scattering empty takeout containers and magazines. She flew at Percy impossibly fast, flattening her wings against her body like she was a falcon in a dive, and Percy barely had the time to twist out of her way. She banked a sharp left just before hitting the wall and came at him again, claws outstretched.

Percy had time to register the tatters of material hanging off them, like she'd recently ripped the clothes from someone less fortunate than him, before he had to throw himself to the floor. The Siren sailed overhead and made another sharp turn, her mouth open in what was clearly a horrible screech.

They were really fast and manoeuvrable. Percy had not been expecting that; they looked like giant freaking turkeys, for crying out loud, but they were flying around like hummingbirds. Percy shoved himself to his feet, just in time to avoid one of them diving down from the ceiling at him. Her claws raked into the rug, slashing it down to the wooden floor beneath and gouging into the exposed boards like they were wax. The impact had rumpled the rug and it had snagged on the Siren's talons; she was too slow to get back into the air and Percy got in a lucky shot with Riptide that would have missed a split second later and managed to slash her into monster dust.

There was barely time to take half a breath before another Siren flew at him, talons outstretched and grasping at his abdomen, ready to disembowel him. Percy swiped with his sword but it just met the Siren's claws and sparked harmlessly off with a screech. It was enough to divert the Siren, though, and she pulled up, wheeling around overhead.

The Sirens were streaking around the apartment in blurs of grey feathers, barely visible with the speed they were moving. They ducked and weaved around each other, congregating above and around Percy and Nico, who were forced to defend themselves from a constant 360 degree assault. The Sirens' talons were razor sharp and made of something as hard if not harder than Stygian iron or celestial bronze; it was more than sufficient to deflect blows from both Nico and Percy's swords. The Sirens used this and their speed to their advantage, becoming blenders with wings.

Nico was forced back against the counters in the kitchen as a Siren hovered in front of him, kicking out viciously at him with her talons and sending his sword spinning harmlessly away from her each time he tried to get in a kill shot. He ground his teeth hard and flicked his eyes to the right and the pile of washing up Percy had accomplished earlier. Coiling his legs, he sprung up and back to land on the counter, swinging his foot backwards to jam his shoe in one of the slots on the toaster. He flicked his leg at the Siren; the toaster was torn from its socket and whipped towards her.

The Siren snagged it with one foot and with a screeching crunch dug her claws into the metal, buckling the toaster almost in half. Nico grinned, using the brief moment of distraction to yank a heavy, cast iron skillet from the drainer and launch himself into the air, bringing the pot down hard on the Siren's shoulder and wing. The music from Percy's iPod stopped him hearing anything, but Nico _felt _the crunch through the pot as it crashed home. The Siren's wing sagged, semi-useless, and she spiralled away into one of the kitchen chairs. It toppled under her weight and splintered; Nico was over her in an instanct and dispatched her quickly into a swirl of oily black smoke that was gobbled greedily by his sword.

Nico stayed crouching low on the floor, his eyes quickly roving over the apartment to try and assess the situation. Percy was fending off four Sirens at once, the gold blur of Riptide's blade as he made ineffectual swipes at the Sirens were mostly blocked from Nico's view by the swirl of plumage that surrounded him like a dust devil.

He tried to get up to help but a Siren swooped over his head, talons raked forwards. He would have lost an eye if he'd been any slower; as it was he felt hairs being ripped from his scalp. Cursing, he slashed out at the Siren but only caught tail feathers; they fluttered down to the floor, buffeted by the continued aerial assault he was suffering.

These things were so fast and it felt like there was nothing he could do to even the playing field. He'd never really considered the practicalities of summoning skeletal soldiers so high above the ground; would he have to wait while they got in the elevator? As the image of dozens of his best warriors listening impatiently to muzak overtook him, he was momentarily distracted from the bigger issue at hand. It almost resulted in a Siren slashing his throat open; had he not thrown himself backwards, embedding splinters from the broken chair in his palm, he was fairly sure he'd have bled out all over Percy's kitchen floor without even realising he'd been cut.

As if was, he was left with three bloody trenches all along his collarbone. His shirt and jacket flapped in shreds as the warm wetness of the blood spreading down his chest became apparent. The wounds felt deep; he could feel the flesh puckering as he moved.

"Hey! I _liked _this jacket!" Nico yelled angrily, jumping to his feet and spinning on the spot as the Siren turned and made for him again. In one hand he had a broken chair leg and in the other he had his sword; he used the chair leg to engage the Siren's grasping claws, which were still glistening darkly with his blood, and managed to hold her back for long enough to hack her in the side, killing her.

There was no time to celebrate; Percy had all but vanished being a screen of feathers. Nico threw the chair leg in the direction of the maelstrom of feathers surrounding Percy. It seemed to bounce harmlessly off something, but he had certainly got their attention.

"Hey!" Nico yelled, picking up the destroyed toaster by the cord. "Hey, bird brains! Thanksgiving is coming up and you know what that means? You. Cranberry sauce. Stuffing. Do the math."

Three Sirens immediately emerged from the flurry around Percy and Nico smiled darkly, slowly starting to swing the toaster from side to side as they made their way over to him. He brought it up in arc and felt it hit something; one Siren spun off and crashed into the fridge hard enough to leave a dent. The freezer popped open and began disgorging frozen food onto the floor. A bag of peas split on impact and spewed, rattling, across the tile.

Nico grinned, very much liking his new toaster/mace and wondering if he could get a spot of Hephaestus TV selling them. Tired of household appliances that don't help you slay monsters? Buy the di Angelo Toastomatic and you can make healthy, nutritious meals and batter the crap out of monsters all in one! Also comes in coffeemaker and, for those demigods who've been working out, microwave format.

What was he doing again?

Oh, right. Trying not to die. He had to stop forgetting that.

Percy was breathing heavily, a mixture of sweat and blood from a gash just below his hairline running down his face. He'd been dodging and ducking and twisting and weaving under the onslaught of four Sirens for only a few minutes, but he already felt exhausted. They were so fast and he felt like he needed to be at least eight people just to keep up with parrying their claws away from his vital organs. He imagined they'd like nothing more than to snack on a couple of kidneys, with a spleen for dessert if they could get past his defences.

His arms looked like he'd lost a fight with a lawnmower, with long cuts bleeding profusely. He was showering the empty fast food containers on the coffee table with crimson droplets of blood from his arms as he fought; they bloomed through the cardboard like roses opening in a snowbank.

The downdraft of fusty air tinged with rancid flesh around him lessened as Nico drew three of the Sirens away from him. Without the flurry of feathers around him, he felt like he had a chance to breathe and took it, swinging Riptide through some lazy figure of eight movements to fend off the one remaining Siren.

Madonna had just finished telling him she was living in a material world and was replaced by a primal male scream set to intense guitar and drumming when the Siren managed to seize his sword arm. He'd been distracted by his toaster separating from its cord and sailing through the air; it had crashed into a framed collage of pictures of him and Annabeth hanging on the wall, shattering the glass. The frame had crunched to the floor, the wood splintering and allowing the backing paper and photos to loll listlessly from the ruined glass.

The Siren's claws dug deeply into his forearm and he cried out in pain; he felt the sensation of nails down a chalkboard _inside _his arm as her talons screeched along his ulna and almost lost the lunch Rachel had bought him. His hand twitched uncontrollably and Riptide fell to the floor, switching back to a pen in midair and bouncing off the corner of the coffee table to skitter under the couch.

He tried to fling the Siren off but she just dug in deeper, cawing triumphantly and sending a new wave of pain jangling up his arm. He said a word he hoped his mother didn't even know he knew and gritted his teeth against it to stop his knees buckling.

Half-blinded by pain and with what remained of his vision focused on Nico vanishing beneath a blur of feathers, he staggered sideways and swept his free hand across the coffee table, snagging a fork out of an empty takeout carton more out of luck than anything else. He jammed it has hard as he could into the Siren's scaly leg; the handle of the fork bent almost double with the force he used but he got it through the armour-like scales and the Siren shrieked, detaching herself and shooting back up towards the ceiling.

Percy looked grimly at the lump of meat he'd once called his sword arm and tried wriggling his fingers; the ring and pinky finger didn't respond. There was a rush of air and suddenly the Siren was diving towards him impossibly fast, claws outstretched and heading straight for his stomach. With images of his intestines spilling out from the handy access door the Siren was about to give him in his bellybutton flashing across his vision, he flicked his eyes down to his feet and kicked up one of the couch cushions he'd flung earlier when looking for the iPod. It sprang into his grasp and he barely got it up in time; it interceded between the Siren and several vital organs but the force of the dive was enough to shunt him off his feet and into the air.

He crashed down on his back into the coffee table; two legs detached under his weight and he slid down the incline to the floor as the detritus that had been on the table slithered and clattered to the floor around him. The air had burst out of his lungs with the impact and he felt the all-too-familiar spasming of his diaphragm as his body desperately tried to reinflate his lungs.

The Siren pulled up; she reached the ceiling and flattened her wings against her body to go in for another dive. Percy felt Riptide reappear in his pocket and yanked it out with his good hand, thumbing the cap off. The pen blossomed into the sword just in time and the Siren impaled herself; her body made it almost down to the hilt and Percy felt Riptide leap in his hands as her last few heartbeats juddered down the blade before she turned to dust.

Percy and Nico had both got two kills in each and the Sirens reacted badly to having their forces reduced by half. The tornado of shrieking Sirens around Nico dissipated as they flapped up to the ceiling, circling around the overhead light.

Percy finally managed to draw a breath and got shakily to his feet, sharing a concerned look with Nico over the back of the couch. Nico began to edge towards Percy, his heart hammering against his ribcage and sending adrenaline hurtling through his bloodstream. Nico rounded the couch and stood next to Percy, eyeing the Sirens warily.

Then the screaming started.

It penetrated the loud music playing in his ears and was like nothing Nico had ever heard before. It was a combination of a hundred noises and then some — the shrill whistling of a teakettle; the shriek of wind over jagged rocks; the screech of rending metal; the squeal of an approaching subway train applying its brakes; the rasp of a whetstone over a blade were all blended together and spat back out.

His earbuds gave a loud screech of feedback and he hissed in pain, wrenching them from his ears. As he did so, the iPod came loose from his jacket pocket; the screen had spiderwebbed and the back light was stuttering intermittently. He clapped his hands over his ears; Percy mirrored his actions, his own earbuds dangling uselessly from his pocket by his feet.

The sound was like a dental drill trying to bore through his eardrums. Nico was sure he felt it exerting pressure on them, ready to make them burst. He staggered as pain overtook him, screwing his eyes closed to try and get a handle of it. Dimly, he heard a crash from his left and suddenly Percy had grabbed him around the waist and forced him down into the gap between the couch and the coffee table, an arm thrown protectively across his back.

Nico glanced up and he realised that, one by one, the windows in the apartment were shattering, blowing outwards in a maelstrom of flying glass and shredding the blinds to ribbons. They flapped like tongues of flame out of the window as the night air wafted into the apartment, opening magazines and rifling through their pages.

Percy's hands were back over his ears now; Nico was sure he was balled into the same foetal position, desperately trying to get the pain in his head to stop. He realised that he and Percy were squashed into such close quarters he could feel his cousin's toes scrunching in his ratty Converse against his calf; his own biceps were trembling with exertion as he pressed his hands harder and harder over his ears.

There were empty beer bottles on the coffee table and they burst into millions of tiny shards, spraying through the air like sandpaper. What felt like tiny drops of acid spattering across the back of his neck were actually flying glass ripping chunks from his skin. A large china bowl with a handful of burnt popcorn kernels in it began rattling against the wooden coffee table before exploding with a ringing crunch.

The pile of washed dishes in the kitchen was the next to go; crockery and glassware jumped and hopped off the pile, spinning up into the air and annihilating itself like someone had lit firecrackers under it. Nico felt shards embed themselves in the back of the couch and closed his eyes again, feeling something warm and wet oozing out of his ears, making his palms slick on the side of his head.

And then, suddenly, it stopped.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey!**

**The wait wasn't so bad this time, huh? This is a long chapter with lots of action in it to make up for the fact that the next chapter of this fic will probably be the last. Or at least, the penultimate one. There's going to be lots of talking and dialogue in the next chapter (or two), with Percy and Nico really trying to hash out Nico's problems and issues, so it will calm down from now on. I've already started writing it, as well, so I don't anticipate too long a wait before I put it up.**

**I have loved having you all along for this ride. Thank you so much for sticking with me. I love you one and all.**

****And thank you, as always, to JJDracula, who got me started on this journey.  
><strong>**

****Marzipan.****

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><p><strong>EDIT (85/2014): It was pointed out to me that the exchange between Percy and Nico at the end of this chapter was almost entirely identical to an exchange between Buffy and Giles in a season two episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer. _Although I have not seen the series for a while and this was an entirely subconscious breach of intellectual copyright, it was nonetheless stolen from the show. I'm reposting with a slightly different ending, one that I actually like more than I liked the old ending, anyway.**

**Marzipan.**

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><p>Nico opened his eyes in surprise. His muscles sang with relief as he slowly uncurled himself from his rigid ball; this was quickly replaced by angry cramping in protest at their mistreatment.<p>

He and Percy were lying in the middle of the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue outside the Rockefeller Centre, staring up at St. Patrick's Cathedral on the opposite side of the street. Nico blinked hard, his fingers sweeping across the gritty sidewalk to check that it was actually real and not some sonic-induced hallucination. He stuck his finger in a fresh globule of chewing gum and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Definitely real. He could tell that by how much it sucked.

Percy slowly climbed to his feet, staggering slightly over to a tree and leaning against it. He was breathing heavily and Nico saw in artificial twilight of Manhattan, where after sundown the light seemed to just be everywhere and come from nowhere, that Percy was bleeding from both ears. Nico touched the side of his own face and his fingers came back sticky with a clot of drying blood.

"Still breathing?" Percy asked, turning to Nico.

Nico let out a shaky breath but nodded. "Just about."

"Did you get us here?" Percy asked.

Nico could barely hear his cousin over the ringing in his ears; it was like he'd just spent a full week in the loudest club he could ever imagine. He shrugged and sat up slowly, turning to look disconcertedly up at the bronze of Atlas outside the Rockefeller Centre and shivering at it. "I guess," he said uncertainly.

"Having the fight on our terms," Percy said, nodding his approval. "I like it."

Nico pulled a face, his mouth twisting guiltily. "Or, you know, whatever. About that… I have no idea why I brought us here. I didn't even think about it." The corners of his mouth tugged downwards and his eyes dropped to the sidewalk. "It's not so much a masterstroke of strategy; it's more peeing your pants and fleeing in terror. Sorry. Two minutes back as a demigod and I can't even get the bravery thing down, huh?"

Percy pushed himself up off the tree. There were people on the sidewalk, even at this hour (it was Fifth Avenue, after all) and they were starting to look quizzically at his leaning and Nico's position on the floor. The last thing they needed was to be arrested for public intoxication. He walked over and helped Nico to his feet, even though his body was telling him it wanted nothing more than to lie down forever. He had to jam Riptide under his injured sword arm to extend his good arm to do so.

"Don't be sorry," Percy said, grunting as he hauled Nico up. "I'm pretty sure you saved our lives. I think they were about five seconds from liquefying my brain. Sometimes, retreating is your best option. Speaking of, come on, we can't stay here. We have to move."

He began to walk, snagging Nico's elbow and almost dragging him over as he steered his cousin away from the small crowd that had started to loiter around them. Nico yelped, his feet scuffling for possession before he managed to fall into pace next to Percy.

"Move _where_?" Nico asked as they headed north along Fifth Avenue, towards Central Park.

Percy hesitated before answering, ducking his head and navigating by staring at the pavement to avoid curious glares. Sure, Echidna could take a stroll down Fifth Avenue in her Sunday best, talking the full-size Chimera for walkies and no mortal would bat an eyelid, but Percy rarely had that kind of luck with the Mist. It might turn the Sirens into demented pigeons and hide both his and Nico's swords, but it wouldn't hide their very-real wounds from gawking passersby, who might try to waylay them with offers of medical assistance or even just straight up call the police.

"I don't know," he admitted to Nico, shaking his head. "We need ambrosia, so Annabeth's, I guess? If we can find somewhere quiet, you can take us there. We can't go back to my place. The Sirens could still be there and besides, I think they shattered almost every window in the building. It's going to be crawling with cops and the fire department and angry tenants and landlords and only the gods know who else. Even if the Mist passes it off as a lightning strike or a gas explosion or, I don't know, pulls a low-flying supersonic jet out of its incorporeal green ass, the authorities aren't going to just ignore it. I would say you should take us to Camp, but I'm not leaving the city with four Sirens running around. I'm not leaving Annabeth and Rachel and anyone else here in danger by running away. I don't want to bring this to Annabeth's front door, but—"

Percy felt Nico flinch in his grasp as the keening of the Sirens far overhead echoed down at them. Percy looked up, but they were invisible in the gloom which pervaded above street level, blotted out by the brightness down below.

"Run," Percy said, licking his lips nervously. "We'll—"

"Draw them into Central Park, away from the street?" Nico finished, swallowing hard and tightening his grip on his sword. As he squeezed the hilt of his sword, a tiny pulse of power from the Stygian iron shot up his arm, calming his nerves somewhat. He nodded tersely, looking like he was actually doing anything other than agreeing. "Okay. I'm on it."

Percy blinked at him. "How did you know—?"

Nico snorted. "What you were going to say? Please," he said. "I may be rusty but I'm not stupid and this is kind of not my first rodeo. Plus, it's just the way you think. Selflessness yada yada yada."

Percy smiled, rolling his eyes and punching his cousin lightly on the shoulder. "Try it sometime," he suggested wryly. "You never know, you might like it."

"You have met me, right?" Nico asked, cocking an amused eyebrow at Percy before taking off northwards at a slow run.

Percy laughed and, shaking his head, made off after Nico, quickly falling in next to him. "So, how do you like being on the monsters' radar again?" he asked conversationally, as if they were taking a stroll and discussing the weather instead of running from razor-clawed flying menaces with screeches like sonic booms.

Nico glared sideways at him. "I told you I'd end up running for my life hanging around with you," he groused.

"Hey, but you're not bored, right?" Percy asked, and he was still grinning inanely as he said it, so much so that Nico couldn't help but join in.

"Nope," Nico said. "Can't accuse me of that. Hey, why are they do mad at us, anyway? First of all, they're trying to lure us like a couple of sailors, all sugar and honey, and now they're cutting out the whole seduction thing and just going straight for the eating part."

"Uh, we killed half of them?" Percy said. "And I don't think they're used to being told no. The wh0le no means no message probably didn't get back to them. Maybe they're too pissed to try singing for their supper anymore." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Do you think they're following?"

Nico looked up at the sky and stopped dead; Percy skidded to a halt on the sidewalk as well, looking exasperatedly at Nico.

"What are you doing?" Percy asked, grabbing Nico's arm again and trying to haul him off once more. "Bad time to take a breather, man."

"I'm checking they're following," Nico said, shrugging Percy off and throwing his arms wide. He gestured wildly with his sword and took a deep breath before yelling, "HEY! What do you get if you cross a Siren with a lawnmower?"

Percy looked up nervously at the sky. "Nico, something tells me now might not be the right time to—"

But the joke was set in motion and the inevitability of the punchline was too much for Nico, so he finished with, "Shredded tweet!"

The Sirens shrieked angrily and swooped into view, dive-bombing them, but Nico and Percy had already taken off at a run again. The Sirens pulled up; one raked her talons along the roof of a cab, reducing the lighted ad on top of it to an explosion of shards and sparks.

"Are you _nuts_?" Percy demanded, although he had an enormous grin on his face.

"Eh," Nico said. "Maybe. I mean, I agreed to move in with you, after all. And anyway, if I am, it's _your _fault. You're the one having the time of your life over there. Besides, come on: that was _funny_."

"I'm not denying it," Percy said, shaking his head affably. "I'd take my hat off to you, but, well, I'm not wearing one and even if I was and tried to take it off, I think the Sirens would probably have my arm off at the shoulder and I kind of use my arms."

The slap of their shoes against the sidewalk and their panting breaths was all that passed between them for a while as they fled up Fifth Avenue, shops blurring on either side of them. Nico was sure he'd accidentally photobombed at least ten photographs as he ran. Suddenly, the rhythmic noise of their running was drowned out as the Sirens' screeching began to reach a crescendo once more.

Percy ran on, Riptide dissolving into a golden arc as he pumped his arms, hoping that if he kept moving and wasn't trapped in a room with them, he could get away from the Sirens without his brain ending up on the sidewalk. It seemed to be working so far; although the sound was still excruciating, it wasn't debilitating like it had been before. It was also slightly muffled by the sound of honking, screeching brakes and the crumpling of metal-on-metal as across Fifth Avenue fenders met fenders, with drivers surrendering control of their vehicles to clamp their hands over their ears.

Around them on the sidewalk people were staggering, some even crumpling to the floor. Percy clamped his teeth together and tried to ignore the pain in his head.

Percy felt his demigod senses spike, but they weren't quick enough for him to get in an entire curse word before the windows of Gap imploded with an enormous _whumph _and the cacophony of a plate glass blizzard. Mannequins and posters hanging in the windows were eviscerated as four storeys of flying glass blew through the shop.

"Holy _shit_," Nico hissed in equal parts awe and fear, slapping a shred paper half as tall as he was from one of the window's giant posters out of the way. Tatters of posters and rags of clothes were raining down around them; sirens and the trilling of an alarm pierced the air, followed by another, and another.

Nico let out a half-demented cackle at the ridiculousness of fabric puddling on the sidewalk, on the road, on passing cars, at the insanity of him running for his life down Fifth Avenue as, one by one, the stores' front windows crackled, frosted entirely white and sagged, crumpling, in a harshly melodic cascade to the street below. The jangling scrunch of window explosions and the ringing of falling glass meeting concrete followed them down the street.

"Faster," Percy bit out grimly, surging forwards. The traffic had come to a standstill between the spectacle, the fender benders and the windshields and windows spiderwebbing under the power of the Sirens' sonic onslaught. Percy slipped into the road to avoid the gawping pedestrians on the sidewalk. Cars were easier to dodge, when they weren't moving, anyway.

"What, you think I'm out for a Sunday stroll?" Nico snapped back, dragging air desperately into his lungs. He had a stitch in his side and his heart felt like it was trying to escape by squeezing between a couple of his ribs but he put on an extra spurt of speed anyway, not sure where he was digging it from.

Behind them, the street started to go dark; street lights were exploding with fizzling pops and crunches. Nico felt a hail of sparks rain down on his bare arm and was immediately greeted with the smell of singed hair. He shook them off quickly and kept running. Glass from shattered headlights swirled around his legs like eddies of snowflakes as he ran, snagging into his jeans whenever it got the opportunity.

A cab driver opened his door suddenly, jumping out of his cab and shaking the pebbles of safety glass that used to be his windscreen out of his shirt. Nico yelped and veered to his left, jumping into the air and landing on the hood of the stationary car next to it. The driver swore at him and made a grab for Nico's legs through his shattered windshield, but Nico had already leapt onto the roof and down the back of the car, landing back on the street and continuing to run. His shoes crunched on the glass strewn across the street and he almost slid over; the surface gave him little traction.

As they neared the intersection of East and West 57th Streets and Fifth Avenue, the screeching suddenly ceased and the sound of wingbeats pulled away above them. Nico shook his head, trying to dislodge the ringing that had taken up residence throughout his head. He could feel the reverberations throughout his skull like it was a gong that had just been struck, all the way through to his back teeth.

"Please tell me they're bored now?" Nico panted, gratefully matching Percy's slower pace. He could be about to barf, he decided, which would be perhaps the most unheroic thing to do ever, but you just didn't go from lazing around to sprinting down Fifth Avenue, even if you were a demigod. His body pretty much hated him for it. This was probably why demigods didn't smoke, along with already having enough to kill them in their everyday lives without having to resort to carcinogens.

"That would be too easy," Percy muttered, stopping abruptly in the middle of the intersection and squinting at the sky. "Incoming."

"What?" Nico demanded, spinning on the spot. He'd got a few paces ahead of Percy before he stopped running. "Where?"

He wasn't expecting the answer to have been _everywhere_, although he supposed he should have suspected it, being a demigod and all. Things just never went smoothly. One Siren was swooping at them from each of the four entrances to the intersection, highlighted in either red or green, depending on their direction of approach, by the traffic lights still attempting to govern the motionless traffic.

"North-south," Percy said, aligning himself to fight the Sirens careening down Fifth Avenue towards them.

Nico took a deep breath and nodded, shifting his focus to the two Sirens streaking towards them from the East and West 57th Street entrances to the intersection.

Percy managed to duck under the assault coming at him from both directions, forcing the Sirens to peel up abruptly, nose-to-nose in an incredibly display of aerial acrobatics that would have made a hummingbird look as clumsy in the air as a dodo. He heard Nico's sword sparking off claws and he knew that Nico hadn't been so lucky, but there was no time to check; all he could do was put his faith in Nico as the Sirens bore down on him again, talons outstretched. Percy whirled Riptide to fend them off but every time he tried to go on the offensive they'd gone and were attacking him from a new direction. Riptide felt clumsy and heavy in his non-injured hand; his unconditioned arm began to ache with clutching his sword hard enough so he didn't lose it but also trying to be dextrous enough to stay alive.

There were headlights glaring in his eyes and the Sirens were hard to pick out in the darkness; he knew it wouldn't be long before one of them got in another lucky hit.

Gradually, all around them, the scene gradually became illuminated by the reds and blues of the lights on police motorbikes as they zipped their way through the stationary traffic, weaving in and out of the cars. The lights sloshed up the sides of buildings and, in the distance, more were promised as police cruisers began to nudge their way through the gridlock, also. Cops began to dismount from their bikes; guns were drawn. The Sirens pulled up and away from street level and wheeled around overhead, keening loudly.

"This is the NYPD!" one yelled. "Weapons on the ground, hands in the air."

"_Us_?!" Nico demanded incredulously. "What about—" He checked over his shoulder, but the Sirens he'd been fending off had vanished and he sighed resignedly. "Right. Yeah. The Sirens you don't notice, but me and my sword _defending myself _is apparently a beacon." He turned to Percy. "I hate the Mist. Does Hecate think this is _funny_?"

"Drop them!" another cop screamed, opening a car door and crouching down behind it, gun still trained on Percy and Nico. "Face down on the ground!" Other cops were fetching people out of their cars and pushing them back in all directions away from the intersection. The people in the cars jamming the road began to spill from their vehicles, leaving the doors flapping open. They were all regarding Percy and Nico fearfully.

"Do they want us to put my hands in the air or lay down on the ground?" Nico muttered to Percy. "Should we maybe do the hokey-pokey?"

Percy shot exasperated side-eyes at Nico. "Kind of not the time," he said to Nico before raising his bloody arm slowly, opening his palm as much as he could. "Easy!" he yelled pleadingly. "Look, officers, this is a misunderstanding. It isn't—"

Then a Siren swooped down out of nowhere. Her talons raked across the first cop's head and would have taken his scalp clean off if he hadn't still been wearing his motorbike helmet. As it was, the claws left jagged slashes through the polycarbonate and the momentum of it knocked the cop to the ground. From somewhere there was a gunshot and Percy felt chips of asphalt wash over his shoe. Both he and Nico ducked double, choosing different cars to slam their backs into and sink to the ground.

"A _misunderstanding_?" Nico hissed loudly, shaking his head at Percy disbelievingly. "That's what you say to try and get off a shoplifting charge, not when the cops are about to _shoot you_ for being armed and dangerous."

A Siren screeched and Percy and Nico ducked instinctively at the incoming rush of feathers, but instead the Siren closed her claws around the whirling sirens on top of one of the cop cars, squeezing it into shards and sparks. Another shot was loosed off into the air; Percy and Nico barely flinched.

"I thought reasoning might work," Percy said tightly. "Sue me for being an optimist."

"Optimism _doesn't work_," Nico replied, scowling at Percy. "How do you not get this by now? We're demigods: our glasses don't get to be half full."

Percy's nostrils flared; Nico could tell that he didn't agree — Percy was _the _eternal optimist, after all — but had decided to shelve the argument for later. Probably wise, all things considered.

Percy chewed on his bottom lip, his thumb tapping nervously on the hilt of his sword. Then he shifted so he was crouching and slowly raised his head above the level of the car door he was sheltering behind to peek through the windows. Immediately there was a crack of gunfire and he yelped as the windows of the car he was behind were dashed into shards glass that splashed down around him. His feet scuffled on it as he threw himself back down.

"See?" Nico pointedly.

"Not a word," Percy said, jabbing a finger at him.

Nico snorted. "Kind of already had one. Can't waste an opportunity as good as that." He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth. "Okay, screw this. Come here. We are getting out of here."

"Nico, if you shadow travel now the Sirens are going to take a while to catch up," Percy said. "If they do at all. They might just stick around and the cops have no chance against them. We have to stay, or at least figure out a way of drawing the Sirens off."

Nico turned and frowned disbelievingly at Percy. "They tried to shoot you!" he said incredulously, jabbing his thumb in the vague direction of where the bullet that had met Percy's peace attempt had come from. "Why are you so worried?"

"Nico—"

Nico rolled his eyes so hard Percy was amazed they didn't fall out of his head. "_Fine_," he said reluctantly and more than a little petulantly. "Fine. Let's put our own lives at risk to rescue the people who want us dead. Sounds fun, huh?"

"It's the right thing to do and you know it," Percy said.

Nico didn't disagree, but hated that Percy was right. "Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You twisted my arm. We'll just…" He paused, looking around desperately for the answer. "Okay, just FYI, my plan of running away didn't need anywhere near this much effort."

"Suck it up and think," Percy said. "I know you've got a brain in there somewhere."

Nico glared at him and gave Percy the one-fingered salute. "Dick," he said. "Just to move this along so I can kick your ass for that… Get ready to run, got it?"

Percy fixed Nico with a look. "Am I going to like this plan?" he asked dubiously. Nico took too long to decide before answering; Percy wasn't comforted.

"I've had better and worse," Nico said eventually, twisting his mouth as he thought about it. "Just be ready."

"Comforting," Percy said. "Thanks."

"Welcome," Nico replied, placing a spread hand on the surface of the road and closing his eyes. Percy could see Nico's mouth moving as he did it, and also noticed the colour drain out of Nico's face and the bluish tinge that gathered in his lips as he swayed dangerously.

Then the ground gave a long and low moan that sounded like the planet itself was in pain before beginning to tremble. Percy felt the car behind him start to shift up and down on its suspension, squeaking as it did so; fragments of glass on the ground began to shimmy over each other, tinkling like small bells. The shaking intensified and all around them Percy saw cracks racing across the asphalt, fleeing away from Nico's crouched form. The road began to crumble in spots as if a giant fist had pounded down on it, all the way down to the soil beneath it, which started to churn. Soon, skeleton soldiers were clawing their way out of the ground, heaving their way up into the land of the living.

Percy realised that the whole thing still gave him the creeps, even after all this time.

As the skeletons climbed to their feet another gunshot was heard; one of the skeletons jerked, the left half of its skull blown to bone dust. It staggered backwards, its skull askew and its cervical vertebrae protruding from an eye socket. It reset its skull on its neck and shook a bony fist before removing the tattered remnant of the boot it had on one of its feet and throwing it in the direction of the shooter.

"Buy us time!" Nico yelled to the newly-assembled army.

The skeleton nearest Percy reached over Percy's head into the abandoned cab Percy was behind and tore the entire steering column free with a single jerk, spinning like a hammer thrower before hurling it up to where the Sirens were circling.

"With the cops!" Nico hastily clarified, putting a hand over his eyes as the steering column crashed back to earth, annihilating a trash can as it did so.

The skeletons all turned to Nico with their heads comically cocked, all _Why didn't you just say so? _Percy almost laughed but what with the Sirens overhead and who the hell knew how many guns trained on them, now wasn't really the time. Plus, it would probably have hurt Nico's feelings.

Nico's soldiers all began marching away from Percy and Nico towards the entrances to the intersection, yanking off bits of cars as they went to use as weapons. A couple of the soldiers threaded their arms through the interior door handles of cars and used car doors as shields against the hail of gunfire which was the response to their advance.

"Go, go, go!" Nico yelled over the noise, beckoning to Percy and taking off at a slow, loping run, bent double and weaving between the empty cars as he did so.

Percy closed his eyes and shook his head, already sensing that this probably wasn't going to end well but resigning himself to it, anyway. What other choice was there?

He took a deep breath and followed after Nico, taking a different zigzag pattern to the one he'd seen his cousin take. Hopefully, if they could make themselves as hard a target to hit as possible, they'd make it through without looking like a couple of colanders. Hopefully.

Around him, car tyres exploded and glass shattered; Nico's skeletons advanced ceaselessly through the bullets, paying them no more attention than they would gravel, and they were drawing more and more fire. One picked up a motorbike and hurled it at a cop car that was sheltering a concentrated pocket of cops who were responsible for the majority of the bullets. Cops scattered, diving out of the way, as the motorbike crunched down onto the roof of the cop car, buckling the door pillars outwards and squashing the roof like a tin can. Glass burst from all the windows and the quasi-silence caused by the sudden lack of gunfire was staggering.

"So, I guess now we make a break for it?" Percy suggested, catching up with Nico, who was crouched behind another car.

Nico shrugged. "Sure. Seems slightly less like suicide than it did two minutes ago."

Percy threw his head back in exasperation. "You're such a freaking ray of sunshine," he said. "You know what I was always thinking all those years you were missing? 'If only Nico were here, because I could sure use a healthy dose of optimism right about now'."

Nico's face scrunched in distaste and disbelief. "You want to be optimistic? Seriously? You mean optimism like trying to talk my way out from around the wrong end of a gun barrel?" he returned pointedly. "Because that sure worked out _great _for you, huh?"

"Okay, so maybe that wasn't my finest hour," Percy admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "But still, work with me here. Would it kill you to think happy thoughts just once?"

Nico considered. "It might not kill me," he conceded eventually. "But it would probably hurt. A lot."

Percy sighed and shook his head. "You are _impossible_," he said, although there was only fondness and friendly exasperation in his tone. "You know what? I'll just do it for both of us."

"Good for you," Nico said distractedly, bobbing his head up over the hood of the car. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Percy nodded enthusiastically. "Sure am!" he chirped, a grin practically splitting his face in two. "And it's going to be _great_."

Nico turned and regarded him stonily, slowly crouching back to the floor in incredulity. "Seriously? Okay, _wow. _Don't do that," he said. "Don't do that, or I am leaving your grinning maniac ass here for our feathered friends to dine out on."

Percy continued to grin at Nico; Nico edged uncomfortably away from his cousin. "Quit it," Nico pleaded. "You're freaking me out."

"I know," Percy said happily. "Why do you think it's so fun?"

Nico narrowed his eyes at Percy. "Just get ready to run," he said, moving into a crouch and taking a deep breath before taking off down Fifth Avenue again. He could practically see Central Park now, but he could also see the roadblock cordoning off Fifth Avenue from East and West 58th Street. Luckily, the cops manning it were still hastily erecting it and too busy engaging in crowd control to notice Percy and Nico, but that could change any time soon. Still, all they had to do was dodge the barricade and they'd be out of the woods. Well, with the cops at least. What they were going to do about the Sirens he had no idea but there were only so many bridges one demigod could cross at once.

He could hear Percy running behind him and, overhead, even over the noise his skeleton soldiers were making, he could hear the Sirens flapping and shrieking. Then a gunshot rang out and all of the noise was swallowed by a rush of blood to his head.

It had been _way _too close to home and Nico felt his heart skip in his chest; he actually stumbled, doing a mental assessment to check whether he'd been hit. When nothing immediately screamed at him he turned around.

Percy was nowhere to be seen.

Nico felt like he'd just fallen off the top of his building; the plummeting feeling was almost _real_ and his mouth dried up like a dessert. Had that gunshot hit Percy? He ducked behind a car for cover and called Percy's name, his voice a couple of octaves higher than he meant it to be, the words hard to get out with his panic-thickened tongue.

"I'm okay," Percy grunted, popping up from behind another car looking anything but. His face was grey and drawn and beads of sweat were gathering on his upper lip. He'd obviously taken a spill; his face and arms were red with road rash. "Go," he said. "I'll catch up."

Nico sagged with relief on seeing Percy, but his face immediately switched to concern. "What?" he demanded, standing up as well and glancing nervously back down Fifth Avenue as he did so. There was a cop standing there with his gun raised, but Nico let a spark of power surge through him and a skeleton responded to his command, grabbing the cop by the collar and dragging him away, arms flailing wildly. "Why?"

Percy grimaced and looked down at his left leg. About a quarter of the way up his calf, blood was blossoming through his jeans, so dark the denim looked black. "Tiny problem," he said. "I guess you were right about those happy thoughts."

Nico stared at the growing bloodstain and swore, dragging a hand back through his hair. "No kidding," he muttered. "Can you move?"

Percy set his jaw and tested his weight on his leg. The grey in his face turned to green as he hobbled towards Nico, sliding from one car to another as he did so to let them bear the weight rather than his leg. He nodded tightly. "Sure," he panted, coming to rest in front of Nico. He slumped against the car next to them and threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly. "I'm good."

"Bullshit," Nico snapped, running a hand through his hair again and turning away from Percy for a minute. "Seriously?" he demanded, spinning back around to face Percy and poking an accusatory finger at him. "You got _shot_?!"

Percy shrugged and smiled humourlessly. "Hey, you know me," he said. "I'll try anything once."

"You can't be shot," Nico said, clearly freaking out as the Sirens shrieked overhead. "You are meant to be the hero."

Wingbeats surged above them and Nico jerked his head upwards as a Siren streaked down from the sky. The car they were next to had a car seat strapped in the back and an open diaper bag on the front seat. The door was still wide open from the speed the police had moved in to clear the area and Nico reached in and snatched the talc out of the bag, whipping it through the air and squeezing it in the diving Siren's face.

Her screech turned into a splutter in an almost total whiteout, allowing Nico to swing his sword and decapitate her as she desperately struggled to regain altitude. Monster dust hissed to the asphalt around them.

"Uh, hi," Percy said, continuing the earlier conversation as if nothing had happened, aside from fanning the talc from in front of his face. "Did you not just see what you did? _So are you_."

Nico stuck his thumbnail in his mouth and started chewing on it, shaking his head. "No," he said. "No, I'm not. Not like you. You're Percy freaking Jackson and I'm just…" His face darkened. "Me."

Percy scoffed. "Sorry, I didn't realise this was a pity party. I would have bought cake."

"Shut up," Nico growled, grabbing Percy's arm and throwing it around his shoulders. "Come on, we've got to move."

Percy gave another grunt of pain but, leaning heavily on Nico, managed to start walking at a fair pace, occasionally hopping when the pain in his leg got too bad. It felt like he'd stepped in a bear trap; the wound was pulsing and throbbing with each heartbeat. His shoe was filled with blood and squelched as he walked.

Then the Sirens screeched and the three that remained were back on them again. Percy and Nico threw themselves face down on the ground as they swooped in low over their heads. One Siren didn't manage to pull up in time and caught the roof of a car with her outstretched claws; the metal sheared and peeled upwards in curls like tinfoil from the front to rear.

"This is insane," Nico said. "We can't outrun them anymore. I'm taking us into the park."

"No, what if the Sirens don't follow?" Percy asked, pointing to the roadblock. "Look at all those people over there. The Sirens could gut them all."

Nico chewed on his tongue. "Do you have to work at being this much of a pain in my ass or does it come naturally to you?" he said. "Percy, _you've been shot_ and you can barely hold a sword. We can't run — what do you want us to do?" Percy hesitated and Nico snorted. "Exactly," he said, snagging Percy's ankle and enveloping them both in screaming darkness.

They reappeared just inside Central Park on a path next to The Pond. Nico let go of Percy's ankle but Percy immediately grabbed on to Nico's wrist.

"Nico, didn't you hear what I said? What about those people? Take us back," he demanded, although the pain he was in denied the words most of their agency.

Nico sighed. "Not us," he said grimly. "Me. You're a terrible influence on me, you know that? Spreading your ethics and morals and freaking nobility around like the plague. You can't run anymore, so just be ready. I'll draw them back here and keep them from snacking on the bystanders."

"If you're going back to fight them, I'm coming with you," Percy said determinedly, tightening his grip on Nico's wrist. "You're not doing this by yourself."

"What, you have a wheelchair in your back pocket or something?" Nico asked. "Perce, you can barely stand up. Just take it easy for a second. I'll be fine."

Percy tightened further his grip on Nico's wrist and set his jaw determinedly. Nico couldn't shake it off. Instead, he grimaced and jabbed Percy's bad arm with his finger. Percy gave a cry of pain and surprise.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Nico said, wincing as he was doing it. Percy finally let go; Nico quickly jumped to his feet. "Really, sorry. That looked like it hurt like a bitch. But it is for your own good."

"Nico—" Percy began, anger tingeing his voice, but Nico had already disappeared.

He reappeared in the middle of Fifth Avenue, almost exactly on the spot they'd been on before he'd taken them to the Park. He brushed dirt off his t-shirt. "Can't shadow travel across the city my ass," he muttered, wishing that his biggest problem was still that Annabeth didn't trust him to travel anyone a few blocks.

He looked around. The cops manning the roadblock at 58th Street still had their backs to him as they struggled to hem in the crowds. His skeletons were still keeping the police at the 57th Street intersection busy, but overhead he heard the clattering drone of an approaching helicopter, and he wasn't sure how long it would be before they managed to get greater firepower in place. He didn't know how well his skeletons would do facing down a hail of machinegun fire.

Oh well. He'd hopefully be long gone before he had to find out.

He looked to the sky, shifting his sword nervously from one hand to another. The approaching helicopter had drowned out the sound of wings and he couldn't see any movement that would indicate the Sirens were up there.

"Come on, I know you're here," Nico called out, spinning slowly on the spot. "I'm waiting. You want to eat me? Come and get me while I'm hot."

There was still no indication of the Sirens' presence and Nico swallowed hard, glancing up and down Fifth Avenue to see how much time he had to stand around before someone noticed and he got a bullet wound to match Percy's.

"Don't tell me you've flown back off to your island?" Nico yelled, as loud as he dared. "Come on, you flew all the way out here for some demigod steak and now you're giving up? You call yourself monsters? You're pathetic!"

He was practically vibrating now with the desire to run, because he was sure that he'd probably seriously pissed them off, but he had to draw them out first. There was no point running if they weren't following.

"Fine," he said. "Fine, you want the Sirens to be known as nothing but a bunch of oversized, angry turkeys? Well, you got it. No one is ever going to be scared of you again. Gobble gobble."

Even above the noise of the helicopter, which was rapidly closing in, Nico heard the Sirens shriek a loud war cry. They dived from where they'd been roosting on the sills of buildings and spiralled down towards him quickly, faces twisted into masks of hate and talons sparking off each other as they opened and closed their feet.

Nico took off at a run at the last possible second; he felt the material of his t-shirt ripple in the Sirens' downdraft. They screeched angrily and flew after him, powerful wings forcing their way through the air. The roadblock at 58th Street was rapidly approaching now and bystanders were starting to stare and point at him and his deadly, feathered entourage. Camera phones flashed and the cops manning the barricade turned, reaching for their guns.

"Stop right there!" one yelled, levelling her gun squarely at Nico. "NYPD, stop or we shoot."

Nico closed his eyes tightly and kept running, his face screwed up in anticipation. He didn't want to disappear too soon, in case the Sirens didn't follow, so he gritted his teeth and waited until he heard the first bark of gunfire before summoning shadows and letting them swallow him.

When he reappeared on the other side of the barricade, skidding to a halt, Central Park was only a few yards away. He allowed his breathing to normalise slightly but, as he did so, he was suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his arm. He looked down and noticed rivulets of blood beginning to snake their way down his upper arm, pooling in his crook of his elbow before overflowing and dripping down either side. The sleeve of his t-shirt had been shredded and he pushed the tatters aside; there was a blistered graze across his upper arm. A bullet must have winged him.

Overhead, the Sirens shrieked and Nico shoved the pain to the back of his mind and took off at a run again, dodging his way through gridlocked traffic, milling onlookers and reporters setting up with microphones in front of cameras. He cut through Grand Army Plaza, leaving the Plaza Hotel behind him and eventually took a running leap into a seething mass of shadows which deposited him where he'd left Percy. He tumbled out of the air, landing hard on his side and rolling across the grass next to the path before coming to rest face down, breathing heavily.

Percy dragged himself over to Nico and rolled him over with an angry shove. Nico shoved hair off his face and stared up at an expression so thunderous their uncle Zeus would have been proud. He sighed and sat up, dusting himself off and picking grass and twigs out of his hair. Percy had tightened his belt around his thigh to try and stem the bleeding in his calf, but the stain on his jeans had now turned all the denim below his knee black. He'd been sitting in a pool of blood on the path, but that didn't seem to do anything to quell Percy's anger, though, so Nico sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"Look, we have a couple of seconds before they get here," Nico said. "Are you going to waste time getting mad or are you going to get ready?"

"You don't get to make decisions like that!" Percy snapped, eyes blazing at Nico.

"Okay, you're going to waste time getting mad," Nico said, his shoulders sagging. "Got it."

"Nico, the Sirens could have killed you. The cops could have shot you. What were you _thinking_?" Percy demanded, folding his arms across his chest. "You can't just go running off half-cocked. You don't live that long when you're a demigod and you pull stunts like that."

Nico snorted. "Oh, come _on_," he said. "You have done things that were _way _more dangerous when you were younger than me. Running off half-cocked is like your MO. Whose playbook do you think I stole that from? Besides, you were the one who was like, 'Let's save the cops trying to give us some shiny new ventilation holes'. I was only following _your _plan. You couldn't have come with me — you can't walk. I wanted to get the hell out of there but I stuck around because you reminded me it was the right thing to do. Well, so was that and I don't care what you think."

Percy's shoulders slumped and he put his head in his hands, massaging his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was calmer, softer and about a hundred times wearier. The anger had drained from his face; it was like it had been keeping his expression inflated, and as it dissipated his face turned pinched with exhaustion and pain. "Look, Nico… you were gone for a long time," he said. "A really long time. I'd almost accepted that you were dead. I don't want to have to go through that again anytime soon, okay? You may be a pain in the ass but damn it, you are _family… _as well as a pain in the ass."

Nico screwed up his face. "Are we having a moment? Because if so, this feels gross and I request we don't have any more."

"Can you not take anything seriously?" Percy demanded exasperatedly. "I'm trying to tell you that you're not expendable. You have all this baggage where you think you're worthless and you're not, so stop volunteering yourself for suicide missions. It will _matter _if the Sirens get you. Besides, suicide missions are kind of what I'm around for. It's what I do. You shouldn't have to share that spotlight."

"Okay, firstly, taking things seriously is for boring people," Nico said. "And secondly, the Sirens are after both of us. If we're going to hang out, this is going to keep happening. Big Three kids couldn't light a bigger beacon for monsters. I'm going to have to do the stuff you have to do, like volunteering for certain death, although I can't say I'll be as insanely chipper about it as you seem to be. Also, just so you know, you can't really call them suicide missions if you survive. If they're suicide missions, then you suck at them. Thirdly, I'm not going anywhere. Even if I want to run away, you're here reminding me that you can't deal with your problems that way." He paused. "Besides, it wasn't a suicide mission: look at me, I'm pretty much indestructible."

Percy frowned at Nico's arm. "Sure you are," he said dryly. "Did you know you're bleeding?"

Nico shrugged and waved a hand. "I got a little shot. But it's nothing. Flesh wound. I decided to leave getting properly shot to Manhattan's resident kelphead."

The Sirens announced their presence above them and both Percy and Nico jerked their heads upwards. Nico climbed to his feet, swinging his sword around in circles as he did so.

"Saved by the screech," Percy said, flexing his fingers on the hilt of Riptide. "I was about to kick your ass for that."

"With your one good arm and one good leg?" Nico asked, smiling brightly down at Percy.

Percy scowled at him. "You want to come over here and say that? I can still make half a fist with my right hand. All the better to pummel you with." He held up the wreck of his right arm in demonstration, managing to get a few of the fingers to form what could maybe be called a fist if Nico squinted. And was wasted.

Looking unimpressed, Nico folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. "You want to hop on over here and make that threat?" he said. "Seriously, I can wait. I'll even help you up and everything."

Percy lowered his fist and scowled at Nico. "Wait until I get some ambrosia," he said. "Then see how funny you think you are."

Nico snorted. "I hate to be the voice of doom—" he began.

"Bullshit," Percy interjected with immediately. "You don't hate it at all. In fact, I'd say you love it."

"Uh, we sane people call it realism, but whatever. I was just going to say that we actually have to survive the Sirens before you can get some ambrosia in you. That's all. Right now, it's a pretty big if."

Percy nodded. "I was thinking about that. After you abandoned me here—"

"For your own safety, because you're too thick-skulled to admit when you need to freaking sit something out," Nico interjected with pointedly.

"I had time to think," Percy continued, as if Nico hadn't interrupted. "Let them come lower and they're going to get a taste of why you don't mess with Poseidon's kids."

A slow smile spread across Nico's face. "Now we're talking," he said, turning his head towards the Pond. "Perfect." He chewed on his lip for a moment, lapsing into silence as he turned back to Percy. The lighting was dim in the park but Nico could still see the bloodstain spreading across the grass from Percy's bullet wound. "Are you sure you've got enough juice for that right now?" he asked.

Percy didn't answer right away, and that was when he knew that they could be in some serious trouble. It wasn't like Percy not to have some kind of comeback ready, and the silence spoke volumes. Percy had been clearly thinking the same thing, which was so unlike him it was almost scary.

Percy tightened his jaw and tilted his head first one way then the other, shaking out his neck. He let out a long breath through his nose and nodded. "Sure," he said. "Cakewalk."

"We don't have to," Nico said. "There has to be another way. Maybe—"

The Sirens swooped down from the air above them. Nico ducked, parrying their talons with his sword. Suddenly, he was closed in on all sides by feathers and claws. He couldn't even tell how many of them he was fighting, just that there was a furious feathered mass attacking him from all angles. Blood trickled into his eye from a cut on his forehead he hadn't even had time to feel getting and he wondered how long it would be before the claws manage to cut something a whole lot more vital.

Then above him there was a loud groan and the sound of splintering wood. The Siren tornado around him abruptly peeled off and Nico blinked, disorientated, as an enormous branch from one of the large trees around the Pond tore its way through the canopy on its descent.

"Nico!" Percy yelled, lunging forward and trying to get to his feet only to have his injured leg buckle uselessly underneath him. He hit the ground hard and swore, missing Nico attempting to dive out of the way. As Percy looked up, the fingers of his left hand piercing the turf around the hilt of his sword, the branch crashed to the earth.

It caught Nico mid-dive in his lower back and swatted him to the ground. His sword spun from his grasp across the grass, hacking a chunk out of a nearby clump of bushes and withering the leaves to crispy shells of their former selves. Only Nico's sword arm was visible to Percy from underneath the mass of foliage.

The Sirens screeched jubilantly and Percy growled, rolling over onto his back and feeling a tug behind his navel. The surface of the Pond leapt into a mass of ripples, which grew to waves rolling out from the centre, sloshing against its confines. The water began to churn and revolve with a growing roar before a waterspout surged from the surface, piercing the night sky. Already beginning to feel dizzy, Percy ground his teeth, making the waterspout wider. It began to curve towards him at the top and he let the water take over, using it to feel his way through the air and search out the Sirens.

Percy pushed hard and despite the Sirens attempting evasive manoeuvres, the twisting water quickly engulfed them, dragging them into its rotation. Percy let out a sigh of relief at having them contained and allowed the waterspout to die down slightly, still keeping the Sirens ensnared. He rolled back over onto his stomach and crawled towards Nico, trying to ignore the blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision. The waterspout would have been a big thing at full strength: now, it felt like it was sucking the very life out of him.

"Nico?" Percy called. "Are you still with me?"

The hand Percy could see twitched and then withdrew; this was followed by a loud groan.

"Mother_fucker_," Nico hissed. The leaves on the downed branches rustled and jumped as he fought to extract himself from underneath it. "It's bad enough they have to be singing, flying, taloned bitches but now they're freaking _lumberjacks_ as well? Ow. _Ow_."

Percy finally reached Nico. Nico's face was screwed up in pain as he painstakingly wriggled his way out from beneath the branch.

"Are you hurt?" Percy asked, closing his eyes to ride out a roar that had risen in his ears along with a doubling of the fuzzy darkness he was seeing.

"Peachy," Nico growled. "I'm about to do an Irish jig, actually. Want to join?"

"I meant can you _walk_?" Percy said with a snort, cuffing Nico upside the head. "I meant, like, are you paralysed from the waist down or…?"

Nico winced as he dragged his foot out from under the branch and flopped down on the grass next to Percy. He wiggled his feet demonstratively. "I'm good," he said. "Finally feel pity for that witch Dorothy went and murdered by dropping a house on, but good." He looked up at the waterspout and his eyes widened. "Uh, Percy, the Sirens…?"

"I've got them contained," Percy said. "I'm kind of hoping they'll just drown and then we can go home. I'm going to need like a blue whale dose of aspirin when we're through."

"Um…" Nico began, getting to his feet with a grimace and going to retrieve his sword. "Percy, I think they earned their swimming badge." He limped over to the cluster of bushes and retrieved his sword, scratching his hands and arms on the newly-desiccated leaves and branches.

"_What_?" Percy demanded, spinning round to face the waterspout. Although the Sirens were still revolving inside it, they did indeed seem to be swimming against the current. Percy put his head in his hands. "Seabirds," he said as the waterspout halved in height and ferocity. "They're freaking seabirds. I should have known."

"How long do you think that will hold them?" Nico asked nervously.

Percy looked up at Nico. He was pale and his eyes looked hollowed. "It's more like how long can I hold them in there," he admitted. "If they can swim then I can't keep that up until they stop being pissed at us. Not exactly easy at the best of times, you know? Let alone when I feel like I've been through a blender."

Nico swallowed hard, panic rising in his chest at this newly defeatist attitude from Percy. He nodded, tapping the hand without his sword in against his thigh nervously. His eyes darted around the park, but he kept drawing blanks. Then, even in the darkness of the park, his eyes caught sight of tendrils of shadows swirling indolently towards him, so black they looked almost blue. He knew without even thinking that they were emanating from the Door of Orpheus that he and Percy had passed through so many years ago now, but the sudden awareness of them struck a match in his brain and an idea flared to life.

"So they can swim," Nico said, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess we'll have to send them somewhere where that doesn't matter."

"I'd just like to point out that last time you had a plan, I got shot," Percy said. "Just saying."

Nico scrunched his nose. "Please," he said. "That plan worked perfectly until you went and put yourself in the path of a bullet." Despite the density of the trees around them, a fortuitously-timed burst of machinegun fire and the loud reverberating _boom _of an explosion bowled towards them on the night air. "See?" Nico said. "That could be us right now without my plan."

Percy nodded his acquiescence grudgingly and looked back to the waterspout. Water was cascading back into the Pond from the top of it now and the roar of the spinning water had died to a far gentler swishing. "As long as I'm not going to need a full body suit of Kevlar, do it fast," Percy said. There was a trail of blood shining thickly on the grass where he had dragged himself towards Nico and the ground beneath his leg was thirstily drinking up all that was still pumping out of his calf despite the tourniquet.

"Okay," Nico said. "Sorry to ask, but I need one more thing from you. Just give that waterspout all you've got for a couple of minutes to make sure they're trapped."

Percy nodded and closed his eyes. The waterspout immediately surged back to its full height, sucking up all of the water that had been in the Pond. The trees surrounding the Pond began to thrash wildly as the momentum of the waterspout began sucking twigs and leaves from their canopies. What remained of the colour in Percy's face seeped away and he turned so pale his face glowed in the darkness.

"Do it fast," Percy bit out, still not opening his eyes.

Nico turned to the now-empty Pond and closed his own eyes. Around him, the drifting tendrils of shadow that he had seen emanating from the Door of Orpheus earlier which would have been invisible to anyone else but him began to coil to his command. They swirled around him and he let the power of them inside. When he opened his eyes his pupils blew wide, engulfing both his irises and not stopping there, until his eyes were nothing but shimmering blobs of black ink.

The ground around him began to judder and tremble; the thrashing of the trees grew more intense and the earth around their roots began to pucker as the trunks swayed violently, threatening to uproot them. The ground behind Nico slipped violently downwards about six feet with a crash, forcing Percy to scramble backwards as the path cracked in two lengthways and drifted on liquefied soil into the enormous fissure. It took a wooden bench with it, which was dashed to matchwood as it was forced against the wall of rock Nico was now standing on.

The stone bridge over the water crumbled like a dry cracker, the heavy wet thuds of the huge stones hitting the muddy bed of the Pond audible even over the racket of the shaking. Trees toppled with splintering, haunting moans and enormous crashes as a fissure began next to Percy and snaked towards Nico, racing towards the centre of the Pond. Even looking at it Percy felt ill, like he was about to fall down into it and never stop falling, even though he was more than a safe distance away. It reminded him of the time he and Annabeth had spent tumbling down into Tartarus and he shivered. He was sure there was a rush of air down into it, like the earth itself was taking a huge, grateful breath after millennia of suffocation.

"Stop the waterspout!" Nico yelled suddenly.

Percy was more than grateful to comply and collapsed onto his back, relinquishing control of the swirling water. Instead of feeling it crash back into the bed of the Pond, though, he was struck by a sensation so strange that he forced himself to sit back up again.

He could feel the water he'd released swirling faster and faster in the confines of the banks, like an enormous plug had been pulled in the bottom of the Pond. The roar of the water was unbelievable, even greater than it had been with the waterspout. It filled Percy's head and ears and a mist churned up from the surface began to drift over the park.

"Nico, what are you doing?" Percy asked. The wall of earth and rock Nico was standing on prevented him from seeing the Pond, but he could _feel _the water disappearing.

"If we can't send them to Hades with swords, then we'll just have to give them an express ticket," Nico said.

Even as he said it, though, his voice was faltering and he could feel his knees threatening to give out underneath him. He held on desperately until the sinkhole he'd opened gurgled like a clogged garbage disposal. Wearily, he commanded the rock to close the hole and sank down to the ground, feeling wrung out.

"You opened a drain into Hades?" Percy asked incredulously. "You can do that?"

Nico tiredly gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Apparently so," he said breathlessly, struggling to rein in his breathing. He turned to face Percy, blinking at the sudden height difference. "Whoa. Was this me?"

"Uh, who else were you going to blame?" Percy asked. "Because I'll tell you now: it sure as hell wasn't the tooth fairy."

Nico pulled a face. "Oops," he said, not sounding remotely guilty as he flopped backwards over the edge of the new cliff and vanished into the shadows to appear on the grass next to Percy.

Percy sprawled backwards into the grass as well, recapping Riptide and slipping it into his pocket. "Well, that was… interesting," he said mildly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them and staring unseeingly up at the sky. For the first time in hours, he couldn't feel his heart pounding in his chest and as the adrenaline faded, every injury on his body began to ratchet up its screams for attention.

"Are we still alive?" Nico asked dazedly, relinquishing his grip on his sword. He'd been clutching it so tightly for so long that his fingers cramped as he uncurled them. "If so, how the fuck did we survive that?"

Percy reached across and pinched his cousin on the arm. When Nico jumped and yelped in protest, he nodded. "Apparently yes."

"Ow! Well, guess who just won the award for sucking?" Nico muttered, shifting out of pinching range. He let out a long sigh. His head was ringing with exhaustion and all of his limbs felt like lead that had recently been pulverised. "So… is every day with you going to be like this?" he asked, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up to look at Percy.

Percy winced. "Uh… As much as I want to say that it's all going to be sunshine and rainbows and puppies and we'll ever have to fight any monsters on a city-wide rampage or stop any immortals from destroying the world... Yeah. That's not exactly a likely scenario. I wish you were signing up for days spent at batting cages and trying out hot dog stands and ice cream parlours and being the dictionary definition of mundane but you know what Olympus is like. It has other ideas."

Nico's lips quirked into a half-smile, an almost wistful expression on his face, like he was starving and Percy's words were the smell of a delicious meal he wasn't allowed to taste. The expression vanished quickly, though, and he shrugged. "Eh," he said. "I tried normal. That didn't work out so great for me, either. Might as well give this a shot." He paused. "We can still get ice cream though, right?"

Percy laughed. "Absolutely. That is non-negotiable. I mean, I can't promise you Khione isn't going to pop up out of your sundae, but I promise I'll do my best to stab her with a wafer if I have to."

Nico smiled again; the expression lasted longer and was more genuine this time. "Sounds good," he said, before groaning and sitting up. "So… Annabeth's? Ambrosia?"

"Oh, gods. I don't think you've ever made such a beautiful suggestion," Percy said with a groan of his own, nodding hard, even though the movement of his head made him feel dizzy, like he was nodding away the last fragments of consciousness. His leg throbbed and his extremities had started to feel cold and tingly with blood loss, and the idea of making all that go away couldn't be more appealing if it tried.

Nico rolled towards him and whisked them off into the darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

**Holy mother of Zeus I was not expecting to leave it this long to post. I am so, so sorry y'all. There are numerous reasons for my lack of posting, most of which are very boring, including that life just got in the way. I've been so busy faking being an adult at work that I've forgotten what day or month it is and my own name, for instance.**

**This was also hard to write because it's the penultimate chapter of this fic, and I have really enjoyed writing it and I kind of don't want it to end. Plus, it's brought me a lot closer to all of the amazing, wonderful, lovely people who come along and have put up with me and reviewed despite everything. **

**It's also been hard to write because it contains some pretty dark stuff, which has been rather difficult for me to write. It was pointed out to me that I'd never properly addressed Nico's scars, and I wanted to tie up as many loose ends as possible with this last chapter, so it was time they were dragged out into the open. Needless to say, the origins of those scars could be potential triggers, and I'm only ever a PM away if anyone wants to talk about these issues. I'm not a shrink, but I do play one on TV (or… not, but I do have a couch!), and I can listen to problems.**

**So yes. There is only an epilogue to go now. Thank you all for this ride but thank you, most of all, to JJ Dracula, who certainly wasn't expecting to be approximately 107 by the time she got her fic realised but has stuck with me nonetheless.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Percy awoke with a start as something smacked down hard on his chest.<p>

He flailed wildly, knocking over the lamp on the nightstand as he swept his hand out for Riptide. He had his thumb on the cap, about to push it off, before he really managed to open his eyes and work out where he was.

Right. Annabeth's place, in her bedroom. Nico had brought them here last night, but what had happened after that was more than a little fuzzy. A sharp pain from his calf reminded him of the circumstances of their arrival last night and he winced.

Sunlight slanted in through the window; there was a figure silhouetted against it, the light bouncing off blonde hair and giving the person a halo. Percy squinted hard and threw his hand over his eyes, groaning as his eyes fought to adjust to the light. As he shifted, whatever was on his chest rustled and slid onto the bed.

"Annabeth?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. The roughness of the bandages on his right arm against his skin surprised him and he blinked at them, letting Riptide fall onto the bed. He yawned widely. "What's up? What's the matter? What time is it?"

"Past noon," Annabeth said shortly, rounding the bed to stand next to Percy.

Now Percy wasn't blinded by the sunlight and could make out her features, his heart sank. She looked furious. Under her arm was a bundle of newspapers. He rubbed his bandaged hand across his face again and tried to clear the blurriness from his head and vision.

"_The New York Times_," Annabeth said in the same clipped tone, picking up the newspaper from where it had slid onto the bed and throwing it back onto Percy's chest.

Percy winced again and hauled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. He unfolded the newspaper and was greeted with the image of Bergdorf Goodman with all of its windows blown out. Mannequins were askew in the window, some with tattered remnants of clothing still clinging to them; most looking like crystalline porcupines, being so embedded with shards of window. Even in print, glass glittered on the sidewalks and in the street. Off to the side, a tow truck was hauling a cab with half its front wing missing off the street.

"I guess that sale really got out of control?" Percy tried. His eyes skimmed over the headline. The heat of Annabeth's wrath was distracting him and causing the letters to jiggle around on the page even worse than usual, but with a concerted effort he managed to make out the headline _CARNAGE ON FIFTH AVENUE: Windows Shattered in Midtown; Street Closed to Traffic for at Least 24 Hours; Pentagon says Terror Not Suspected._

Annabeth's nostrils flared and she snatched the paper off him, folding it back up and flipping it over violently so it slammed back down into his lap. Below the fold was an aerial shot of southern Central Park, one Percy had seen a million times without really thinking about, except this time — _THE POND DRAINED: Fish Stranded; Seismologists Baffled. _There was only the muddy bottom of the Pond to be seen. It was dotted with small pools of water, but it was still undeniably empty. The relatively dense foliage that usually surrounded the water was scarred and pitted by fallen trees. A dark chasm yawned menacingly all along the eastern shore.

Percy pushed the paper away from him uncomfortably, but Annabeth wasn't done. She dropped _The Daily News _into his lap next. The headline was imposed over a picture of the newly gap-toothed Trump Tower and read: _WAS IT A BIRD? A PLANE? A SECRET SUPERSONIC SPY DRONE GONE ROGUE?_ Around the base of the skyscraper, people were working to sweep up the glass and debris. Over the top of them was the sub-headline: _Could Sonic Boom from Malfunctioning DoD Stealth Drone Have Caused Damage?_

"I _knew _they would try and blame a supersonic plane," Percy said triumphantly, slapping the headline with the back of his hand triumphantly and breaking into a grin. "Nico so owes me a drink." He glanced up at Annabeth; she continued to be Not Impressed. He rearranged his face to look more sombre as she chewed on her tongue, her lips compressed into a dangerously thin line.

Annabeth wordlessly deposited _The New York Post _into Percy's lap, and Percy's heart sank further. He was starting to sense a pattern and he didn't like it. The paper had plumped for a full page aerial view of Fifth Avenue for its front page, depicting shattered windows gaping at the lens. _SHOP HORROR _read the headline.

Percy sighed and rubbed a hand across his face yet again in a vain attempt to try and clear away some of the fog of sleep. "Look, Annabeth—"

But Annabeth still wasn't done. She dumped _The Wall Street Journal _on top of all the rest; Percy's eyes blurred on the sheer amount of text on the front page. Thinking hard, no mean feat pre-coffee, he painstakingly recreated the largest headline. _Stocks Plunge on Fears of Geological Instability in Manhattan. _There was another headline next to it and Percy squinted, his head starting to throb with the effort, and finally made out _Glaziers Expect Record Quarter._

Annabeth stabbed at the _Wall Street Journal_, so hard Percy actually saw the newsprint smear under her finger. "You didn't just destroy half the city and drain The Pond, you almost _crashed the economy,_" she said. "In a single night." She seemed to swell with indignation, frustration and disbelief. "How… I don't… _How?!_" She threw her arms wide in exasperation.

"Nico helped," Percy said immediately, not willing to take all of the blame for what had happened. He winced under the force of Annabeth's stormy glare; she had folded her arms across her chest now and it looked light she was about to shoot lightning from her eyes at any minute. "Okay, so that's apparently not the point," Percy mumbled to the bed.

"You're damn right it's not the point," Annabeth retorted.

Percy rolled his eyes, busying himself by gathering the papers into a pile and dirtying up his bandages by smoothing the creases out of them. "Come on, it could have been worse," he said. "You don't even like shopping."

Annabeth's demeanour cracked and she allowed herself a small smile. "Just because I said that the Battle of Manhattan was more orderly than sale shopping with Rachel doesn't mean I wanted you to turn Fifth Avenue into an _actual _warzone," she said wryly, sitting down on the edge of his bed but still giving him a disapproving eye. "I spoke to Chiron this morning before I left for my internship. He said initial estimates place this as the mostly costly monster attack _ever_. It could cost more to clean up than the freaking Battle of Manhattan, Percy. I don't know how you manage these things, I really don't. I feel like I should be impressed more than anything else."

"You know me," Percy said with a shrug. "Go big or go home. Or at least, you know. Go home if your apartment is actually habitable instead of a shell full of shattered glass…" He paused. "I think my neighbours are going to kill me."

"They can get in line," Annabeth said dangerously, fixing him with a pointed glare as her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "If there's anything left after I'm done, they're welcome to it."

Percy laughed and held up his hands. "Okay, fine," he said. "Fine. Next time the Sirens attack, I promise to stay at least a mile away from the nearest window. It was kind of a hard battle, with it raining glass anyway. It would actually probably be better that way." He shuffled _The Wall Street Journal _out from the pile of papers and brandished it at Annabeth. "Besides," he said. "Right here. _Glaziers Expect Record Quarter. _Maybe I helped the economy, huh?"

"What, you're an economist now?" Annabeth asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Percy screwed up his face. "That may be the harshest thing anyone has ever said to me," he said. "Besides, are _you_? How do you know I almost crashed the economy?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes and took the newspaper from Percy before dumping it over the end of the bed. "Touché," she said reluctantly. Her body relaxed; she unfolded her arms and reached up to unpin her hair. As it tumbled around her face, she placed the two dagger-like celestial bronze chopsticks that had been holding it in place on the nightstand before rubbing her eyes. "Sorry I came on a little strong," she said. "It was just seeing the news this morning was kind of a shock, you know? That's a lot of broken windows. I'd got it out of Nico that it had been rough, but I didn't realise _how _rough it had been. I'm more mad that you thought you could handle it without backup than anything else. You're not invulnerable anymore."

"I know," Percy said, waving his bandaged arm at her. "Believe me, I know. Big fat ouch right here. If it helps, we were actually coming to find you when the Sirens started their opera singer shriek of death mojo. Kind of had to make a new plan. Anyway, you can't exactly blame me for the Sirens. I was just hanging out with Nico, minding my own business and suddenly… yeah."

Annabeth sighed, her forehead furrowing into a frown. The anger had dissipated from her eyes and had been replaced with concern. "I know," she said heavily. "I know monsters aren't your fault. It's just that I'm freaking out a little about the Sirens being so far north. Chiron says he's never known them to leave their island and suddenly they've gone migratory and are stopping off for a little demigod inflight snack? I've been checking books and Daedalus' laptop, but I haven't had much time with work and everything. I'm stuck on it, anyway. What does it _mean_?"

"It means that they were hungry and me and Nico smelled pretty damn good," Percy said with a shrug, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. "Don't freak out about it. It's not worth it. Nico asked the same question, actually, and—"

"Wait," Annabeth interrupted with, holding up her hand. "_Nico _asked that same question? Our Nico?"

"Don't act so surprised," Percy said. "He's smarter than pretty much anyone gives him credit for. Yeah, he asked that question and I really just think that they came for the eating. Maybe they had a grudge because I helped you escape from them a million years ago as well, but I don't think it's anything to lose sleep over." He shrugged. "Besides," he added cheerfully. "If it is another apocalypse, well, it's not like we haven't had practise."

Annabeth's mouth tugged down at the corners and she stared wistfully at the wall over Percy's head. "Sometimes, I wish I didn't live in a world where I have to know the plural of apocalypse," she said.

Percy hadn't let Annabeth's hand go and he gave it a reproachful shake. "Hey, don't get mopey on me over this. If it _is _the end of the world_, _which it totally isn't, but if it _is, _then we'll deal, okay? I think we've got apocalypses down now. At this stage, I pretty much eat apocalypses for breakfast."

Annabeth smiled and squeezed his hand back, but the worry didn't fade entirely from her eyes. "Yeah, but you also eat cold takeout for breakfast," she said. "I'm not going to sleep any easier if this is based solely on your dietary habits."

"Uh, I eat cold takeout for breakfast because it's _the best thing ever_," Percy said. "It's not my fault you can't see the light."

Annabeth didn't have a response to that, which was how Percy knew that not everything was okay with her. She'd withdrawn from the conversation; he could almost see the gears in her brain shifting as it devoted the majority of its output to trying to figure out the meaning behind the Sirens' appearance rather than taking part in the conversation.

"You're still freaking out," he said, bring her hand to his mouth and kissing her fingers. "Come back to me. I thought we decided that was not necessary?"

"_We_ didn't decide anything," Annabeth said, narrowing her eyes at him and slipping her hand out of his. "And you're damn right I'm freaking out. Can you blame me? Put yourself in my shoes. It's the middle of the night and Nico crash lands in my kitchen with you in tow barely conscious and you're covered in _blood _and Nico tells me someone shot you. It was scary, okay? I want to understand why this happened so I can figure out if it's going to happen again, and whether the next time it will be worse. I'm not in the mood for being woken up to you bleeding on my kitchen floor again anytime soon." She reached out and punched him in his good arm. "That was _not fun_, by the way. Maybe you were dying, for all I knew. And you are _not _allowed to die on me, okay? Or I am pulling an Orpheus and marching down to Hades to kick your incorporeal ass, you got it?"

Percy smiled, absently rubbing at his shoulder. "Deal," he said. "I'm sorry for scaring you. Although I would just like to point out again that the Sirens were _so _not my fault."

"I know that," Annabeth said with a sigh. "Monsters are monsters. Still, the whole getting shot thing was new and I'm just saying I don't like it. Seriously, you might be the first demigod ever to come out of a monster fight with a bullet wound."

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Percy wriggled his toes experimentally and watched the covers writhe with interest. "Speaking of getting shot… My leg feels okay. What happened?"

Annabeth blew air out through her lips and held up her hands. "Don't ask me, ask Nico," she said. "You were pretty much entirely out of it as soon as you landed, but I'd barely turned on the light last night and he had already turned into Florence Nightingale. Had me boiling water and fetching disinfectant and some pliers and gloves. He managed to fish the slug out on the second try. He even asked for a needle and thread, but I reminded him that we have something a little better than stitches. I guess it's been a while since he's been able to rely on nectar. And don't ask me how he knew how to do all that. I did ask how he knew how to get a bullet out, but he looked like I'd just kicked his hellhound puppy. Probably one of those parts of his past he wants to forget about."

"From what I saw, I can't blame him," Percy said. He shoved the covers off him and swung his legs out of bed, testing his bad leg on the floor. It still hurt to put weight on, but nowhere near as much as last night when he had first been shot. Sometimes, he loved being a demigod. "Is he here?"

"He was this morning. He crashed on the couch," Annabeth said. "He wanted to go back to your place, but I managed to persuade him to stay after giving him about a thousand reasons why that was a bad idea. I thought I was going to have to tie him down."

Percy smiled sadly. "I think he feels safe there," he said quietly. "It was a big thing to get him to feel safe there, and now…"

"He seemed okay in the end," Annabeth said. "I expect he's around somewhere, doing his usual Prince of the Underworld shadow skulking thing. At least he has that back now, to feel familiar with. Truthfully, though, I think he was even more exhausted than you were, even with you losing half your blood on my kitchen floor. Yesterday wasn't exactly easy on him, I guess. Between his dad and then the Sirens… To be honest, I don't know how he managed to hold it together. I think with everything to take in, I'd have been a basket case."

"No you wouldn't," Percy said, coming up behind Annabeth and draping his arms over his shoulders, pausing to place a kiss on her jawbone. "You're made of steel. So is Nico. We all are. We have to be."

"I'm made of celestial bronze," Annabeth corrected, picking up the chopsticks off the nightstand and starting to fix her hair. "Give me some credit. I'll do a lot more damage than plain old steel."

Percy smiled, pushing back to give her space to do pull off that impossible series of twists and rolls that secured her hair. "I stand corrected," Percy said. "It won't happen again."

Annabeth stood up and turned around, seizing the front of his shirt and dragging him forward into a kiss. "You're damn right it won't," she said as they broke apart. "Now, I'm going to be gone for the next seven hours or so. Do you think you can manage to not wreak total destruction on midtown in that time?

Percy grimaced. "I'm generally against making promises I'm not sure I can keep," he said. "But the Sirens are dead, so we can rule them out."

Annabeth sighed. The troubled look returned to her face when Percy mentioned the Sirens and Percy kicked himself for bringing it up.

"They're dead and they're staying that way," Percy said, catching her eye and locking his gaze with hers. "They're dead and they're staying that way and it wasn't some apocalypse pouncing on us. Just monsters. Just like it's always been. No harm done."

Annabeth snorted. "Tell that to Saks," she said, crossing to her dresser and sitting down to look in the mirror to apply ChapStick. "There's food in the fridge," she mumbled through applying ChapStick. "Feed Nico, for the gods' sake. He went out a while back, and he might have grabbed something then, but I doubt it. He wouldn't take anything from me, but he needs to eat. I made him take a shower and change. I had some of your clothes here to give him. What he was wearing was trashed, but good riddance. Gods know where he got it all from. It looked like a thrift store had thrown up on him."

Percy frowned. "Thrift store? Those clothes were mine. I gave them to him back at the apartment."

Annabeth turned around incredulously, letting her hand fall from her mouth to rest with the other in her lap. Her eyebrows had shot up towards her hairline and now they were sagging back down dejectedly as she resignedly recapped the ChapStick. "We really need to get you some new clothes," she said. "Sort out your wardrobe."

"You already have a drawer," Percy said. "Isn't that enough involvement in my closet?"

Annabeth fixed him with a look and then turned back around to the mirror. She hated spending so long in front of it, it really wasn't her, but she didn't think it would do anything to impress her coworkers if the intern returned from lunch looking like she'd snacked on half a ChapStick. She cared what they thought because, dammit, she wanted to knock this internship right out of the park because of all the doors it would open, and if that required some Aphrodite tendencies then so be it as far as she was concerned. "I don't think it counts when you don't own the bureau it came from any more…" she said, using her pinky to wipe remains of ChapStick from the corner of her mouth before getting up and grabbing a Kleenex to get rid of the last of it, both around her mouth and on her fingers. She stood, smoothing out her skirt.

"That was a telkhine and, to be fair, it's pretty impressive even one of the drawers survived given how hard Jason hit it," Percy said. "I mean, he's not _that _big of a guy and he pretty much reduced it to matchwood."

Annabeth frowned. "I thought it was an empousa?" she asked.

Percy's forehead creased too, but then he shrugged and the lines vanished. "Could have been. At this point, who's keeping score?"

"Forgive me if that doesn't make me feel better," Annabeth muttered dryly, glancing at Percy in the mirror before rolling her eyes and turning to leave.

Percy smiled widely. "Love you," he said.

"I love you _now_," Annabeth said, pointing a finger at him to emphasise her point, "but if I come back and you've got yourself shot again, I reserve the right to take it back. Just throwing that out there."

Percy flipped his hand over and mimed writing on his palm. "Don't… get… shot," he said as he fake scribbled. When he was done, he looked back at it and nodded reasonably. "Got it. Huh. You know, this makes sense."

Annabeth chewed on her tongue to try and stop herself from laughing, just because otherwise the glare she was throwing at Percy would have no meaning. "Smartass," she said. "It doesn't suit you."

Percy grinned widely. "And not a bad dancer, either," he said.

"Now you're just flat out lying," Annabeth said, breaking into a smile despite herself. "Because you suck at dancing."

Percy raised an arm, but Annabeth turned and grabbed the door handle, jerking the door open. "I'm leaving now," she said, "because I can tell you're ten seconds away from doing the robot and I've been frightened enough by you in the past twelve hours to not want to be subjected to that. Just so you know, if I get back and discover your limbs are all unattached, I'm breaking up with your torso."

She turned on her heel and left the bedroom. Percy dashed after her, hobbling comically, and snagged her wrist as she reached for the door. He pulled her in towards him and kissed her. "I love you too," he said, smiling lopsidedly at her.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, her own face breaking into a warm smile despite herself and not without reluctance as she opened the door, gave Percy the universal 'I'm watching you' sign, and slammed the door behind her.

Percy sighed and stretched. He had to limp slightly on his leg, but he figured with a couple more doses of ambrosia, it would probably be almost as good as new.

"Nico?" he called, ambling slowly over to the couch. There was a screwed up sheet on it, but no Nico. A niggle of anxiety wormed its way through Percy's chest. Annabeth hadn't sounded panicked when she was talking about Nico, and she hadn't said he'd _disappeared_, just that he'd gone out, so he must be here somewhere, but his absence made Percy uneasy.

A throw cushion came sailing through the open sash window that led out onto the fire escape, hitting the floor and tumbling across it. Percy blinked at it before a second before crossing to the window and sticking his head out, leaning on the windowsill. Nico had made what looked like a nest out of pillows and a blanket in the corner of the fire escape where the building met the railings. He was engrossed in a paperback book and had a cigarette dangling from his lips with a dangerously-large amount of ash clinging tenuously to it. He glanced up at Percy, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and flicking ash through the railings.

"You could have just shouted," Percy said. "What's with the pillow tossing?"

Nico wrinkled his nose, placing the book facedown next to him. "I'm not going to start yelling about how I'm hanging out on the fire escape. The neighbours will think I've lost it."

"They're not your neighbours," Percy reminded him. "And anyway, even if they were, I'm surprised you care."

"I don't care," Nico said. "But if they notice me, they might think it's strange. Like you said, I don't give a crap, but if they think it's strange then after that comes the staring and if they do that, that ruins the whole reason for being out here. Alone time. Your apartment is crawling with contractors. The whole building is. I tried, but it was kind of not what I was looking for, you know?"

Percy felt the knot of tension that has tightened between his shoulder blades on discovering Nico missing begin to untangle. Not only was he here, but he still seemed like the same old Nico. He wasn't going to lie: he'd been kind of worried that between Hades and the Sirens, Nico might have been pushed too far yesterday and would be looking for a way out. Granted, he'd decided on an usual method of obtaining space but if this was the strangest side effect then Percy could more than deal with it.

"Does Annabeth know you're hanging around out here creating a seriously ironic fire hazard on the fire escape with all of her cushions?" Percy asked.

Nico looked down at the smouldering remains of his cigarette and then back up at Percy, with a look that could be asking no other question than if Percy had recently had a full-frontal lobotomy. "Are you kidding me?" he asked. "Yeah, that would have gone down really well, the fact that I'm a) smoking and b) doing it all over her cushions on her fire escape. I value my life; I kept it quiet."

"Probably wise," Percy said. He paused, a question dangling on the tip of his tongue that he was wondering whether he should ask. "Alone time…" he started. "Everything okay?"

Nico looked like he was really considering that question, and Percy kicked himself for asking it. A number of emotions were running quickly across Nico's face, which was far more expressive than Percy had seen it for the longest time. Maybe the safety of the fire escape had enabled Nico to relax a little more, or maybe the confused jumble of emotions inside him was too great not to display externally.

Nico huffed out a long breath. "Honestly? I don't… yeah? I guess?" He shook his head. "I don't know. I need time to process stuff. So much has happened and I don't feel like I've had time for it all to sink in. To figure out what it all means. I'm a demigod for five minutes and suddenly all hell breaks loose. It just reminds me of…" His throat bobbed up and down; he seemed to choke on the sentence. "The Giants," he said in the end, his voice wavering on the word. "Gaea. Last time I had to deal with this, I was… Gaea, she…"

His throat worked again and he took a sharp inhalation on his cigarette, sucking the smouldering tip towards his lips and dangerously close to the filter. He'd taken such a large drag his lungs and throat protested, but he held the smoke inside and let it burn. He was balling the hand without the cigarette in into a tight fist and it was setting his whole arm trembling.

"I know what she did," Percy said. "But that is not going to happen again, you hear me? So we had a monster attack. Big deal. Shit happens. I know the last time you had to deal with that was the Giant War and you got captured by Gaea, but the Sirens don't mean anything. You are not going anywhere."

Smoke coiled from Nico's nostrils as he slowly exhaled. He nodded, but he looked far from assuaged.

"Seriously, Nico," Percy said fiercely. "If anyone tries to screw with you again the way Gaea did, they are going to have to come through me and I am not going down without taking something big and hairy or scaly or toothy or all of the above with me."

Nico saw Percy's eyes flash dangerously, hardening like shards of a shattered bottle, and he had to admit, seeing it made him feel a little bit better. Clearly, Percy meant what he said and Nico knew that he would go down fighting for him, even if that was the last thing Nico wanted, and that blunted the edges of the panic expanding jaggedly in his chest. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face and the troubled look receded slightly.

"I know," he said. "I know. And thanks. I just…" He paused and ran a distracted hand back through his hair, his forehead creasing slightly. "I'm sat here thinking, wouldn't it be better to just have a life where that kind of shit couldn't happen in the first place? Sometimes, I wonder if I was better off before, without all the crap that comes with being a demigod. Makes me wonder if this is what's actually meant to be."

"You think you were better off before?" Percy demanded. "Nico, you almost _died_. You were a wreck. You were throwing your life away."

Nico stared absently at the ridged metal of the fire escape, his eyes not taking in the flaking non-slip paint. He took a deep breath in and let it out shakily. "Maybe," he said quietly. "But at least… at least I was _free_."

"Free from _what_?" Percy demanded, heat entering his voice without him meaning to put it there. "Free from what you call all the crap that comes with being a demigod? Well, hey. Considering that applies to _me_, colour me offended."

Nico sighed, shaking his head and raking his hand through his hair yet again. He blinked at strands that had snagged in his fingers and sprinkled them off the edge of the fire escape.

"Gods, Percy, that's not even… I don't mean that," he said, looking frustrated. "Of course you're not the crap that comes with being a demigod. That's not what I think."

"Then what?" Percy asked. "Nico, spill. Seriously. That's what I'm here for. Hit me."

Nico shrank back towards the railings, his mouth twisting in thought. "It's just…" he broke off, chewing on his lip before looking up at Percy and meeting his cousin's gaze. "The whole saving the world thing, you know? And not just that — it's all the stuff everyone expects from you when you're a demigod. No one I hung around with before knew I was the son of Hades. No one looked at me like I was about to grow another head. No one treated me any differently because of who I was. I was no one. I was so damn free of all the stupid son of Hades crap.

"After Gaea, after being captured and tortured, all I wanted was to be _free_. Totally. And I _was_, Percy. I mean, yeah, the drugs were a big part of that and I know that's bad, but it was more than that. No one expected anything from me. No one…" He broke off, his head shaking getting more and more violent. "I can't be that person," he eventually continued in a small voice. "I can't be a big hero like you. No one is going to look at me the same way they look at you, and I don't know if I can go back to being that freaky son of death. I don't know where I stand. I don't know who I am. Who I can be."

"What happened?" Percy asked bluntly, leaning down on the windowsill and frowning. "What brought all this on? Did someone say something to you?"

Nico sighed. "It's nothing," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Seriously, you shouldn't have to deal with this. You've already done so much for me. The last thing you need is to become my therapist. Just tell me to suck it up and deal. Ignore me." He reached up and ground out his cigarette with way more force than was necessary on the railing of the fire escape, splitting open the filter, before flicking the butt over the edge.

Percy snorted. "How long have you known me?"

Nico blinked. "Why?" he asked.

"It's been a while, right?" Percy said. "And still you think I'm going to let you off with that? That is weak, man. You know me better than that."

Nico rolled his eyes heavily before glancing up at Percy; Percy was stood in the window with his arms folded and his eyebrows raised expectantly. Nico threw his head back in exasperation, bumping it on the railings before deciding to cave. He knew that Percy could and would wait there all day, and given that pretty much the only other way out was down the fire escape — and after yesterday's cardio he was all about not doing _that_ — he knew he didn't have much other choice.

"My father," he mumbled eventually, gloom tingeing his voice. "He summoned me this morning. Let's just say he was not impressed that I'd had my powers back for less than a day and suddenly it was raining a lake full of Sirens into his throne room. Apparently, I missed Tartarus. He eased up when I pointed out that this made me the only known demigod in history to have ever defeated the Sirens, but he still started talking about the responsibility that goes with all this. It just felt like I was back to being that same basket case I was after the Giant War. That I was _this big_. Back on the train of destiny and I'm yanking on the emergency brake and it's not even fucking connected to anything, because destiny is a dick and there are no stops and—"

"_Breathe_," Percy interjected with. "Nico, seriously. Just breathe for a second, okay? Your dad is your dad. He's—" The earth gave a warning rumble; the fire escape creaked and groaned against the side of the building. "You don't even know what I was going to say!" Percy yelled, leaning further out of the window to scowl down at the street. Several people stopped and stared at him, already staggering from the tremor, but Percy ignored them.

"What _were_ you going to say?" Nico asked.

Percy paused. "Okay, maybe he did know what I was going to say," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "But my point is that you don't need to feel under pressure to do anything. Especially not right now. All you need to do right now is focus on getting better and let the rest of the chips fall where they fall. You'll be fine. Trust me."

Nico grunted. "I'm pretty sure you said that last night right before we almost got killed," he said. "But fine. Speaking of last night, how's the leg?"

"Good," Percy said, throwing it over the window ledge demonstrably as he climbed out. He sat on the edge of the windowsill, pressing his bare feet against the brickwork. He'd noticed Nico changing the subject, but Nico seemed to have got a lot that he needed to get off his chest out there, so he hoped it was a good sign rather than a bad one. Besides, he wasn't about to start pushing things, especially if Nico was feeling trapped and suffocated. It would be the last thing he needed, sitting here rehashing stuff he didn't want to talk about. "Apparently, I've got you to thank for that?"

Nico shrugged with one shoulder. "It was nothing," he said, refusing to meet Percy's gaze.

"You pulled a bullet out of me, Nico," Percy said. "I'm pretty sure that's something."

Nico shifted uncomfortably; the cushions shifted underneath him. "Yeah, well, I wish I could say it was my first surgery, but then I'd be a liar," he said, drawing a corner of the blanket towards him and starting to pick at the stitching. His hair fell in front of his face; it was still damp from the shower.

Percy started to shift off the windowsill but then stopped himself. He had no idea what Nico wanted or needed from him, but he was pretty sure it wasn't to be coddled. Whatever it was that was in Nico's past that had required him to pull a bullet out of someone was obviously a painful memory.

"Yeah, well, you're getting pretty good," Percy said. "If you'd quit smoking, maybe a career as the Surgeon General is coming your way." He made a stab at humour but he wasn't sure it quite worked; he was just trying to stop Nico brooding.

Nico snorted. "I pretty much have a full-time career already, what with concentrating on trying to survive long enough to buy booze," he said. "My plate's pretty full, you know?"

"Well, thanks," Percy said. "I mean it. You got me here and pulled out a bullet. I would have probably bled out in the park if you hadn't been there. And hey, you're going to survive. To have had all the crap thrown at you that you've had and still be a walking talking human being is pretty much a guarantee. You'll make it."

Nico looked up at Percy, shoving hair backwards off his face. Percy was struck by how _old _Nico's gaze looked; it looked wrong coming out of someone who outwardly looked so young. It told Percy that Nico wasn't buying any of what he was selling.

"At least Annabeth was here to remind me I didn't have to stitch you up," Nico said, breaking eye contact with Percy to look back down into his lap, his attempts at avoiding the subject growing ever clumsier. "That could have got messy. Frankenstein's monster has neater stitches than the ones I give. Turns out, skin is tricky to sew together. TV makes it look so easy."

"This is the part where I take my hat off to ambrosia," Percy said. "Sometimes, it doesn't suck to be a demigod."

"What with the whole Sirens mess last night, forgive me for leaving the jury well out on that one," Nico said darkly.

"You sound like Annabeth," Percy said, giving an airy hand wave. "It wasn't _that_ bad."

Nico blinked. "We destroyed midtown and almost crashed the economy," he said mechanically, cocking an eyebrow at Percy. "What does your version of not bad look like? Seriously, tell me. It sounds awesome."

"Ah," Percy said, sliding off the windowsill and onto the fire escape. His bare toes curled into the cool metal; he felt a stab of pain in his calf from the bunching of the muscles that required. "Either you've developed a sudden interest in the stock market or Annabeth got to you with the newspapers as well, huh?"

Nico nodded. "Oh yeah. At one point, she was poking them so hard I thought they were going to turn back into pulp. Or she was going to turn me into pulp. Either way, something was getting pulped."

"She was worried," Percy said, waving his hand casually. "That's all. She can get a little… intense when she's worried. But she's just freaking out about the Sirens being in the city. And me getting shot by the cops. She'll cool down soon, when she's had time to stop freaking out."

"If you say so," Nico said, sounding entirely unconvinced.

"I do," Percy said, nudging Nico with his foot. "Now move over. Quit hogging the fort."

"_No_. I'm sitting here. And it's not a _fort_," Nico said, screwing up his face. "How old are you?"

"It's made with blankets and pillows," Percy said. "What else am I going to call it? It's a damn fort, and it should be big enough for two if you _move over_. Come on, be nice to the invalid."

Nico muttered loud curses and protestations, but Percy was relentless and had soon made room to sit next to Nico. He pressed his back against the railings and stretched out his legs, wincing as his calf muscle tugged sharply but covering it with a loud satisfied exhale.

"See, I told you," Percy said, smiling sunnily at Nico.

Nico, squashed into the corner between the wall and the railings, glowered at him. "This is becoming a theme," he muttered. "It's like the bathtub all over again."

"Uh, as if," Percy said. "This is way more comfortable."

Nico shifted again, taking his bodyweight onto his arms as he tried to manoeuvre back to some semblance of comfort. As he did so, some of the newer scars on his arms bulged out from his skin; they were slightly shiny and gleamed in various hues of pink in the sunlight. They crisscrossed over flatter, whiter scars. Nico was only wearing a t-shirt; it was probably the first time Percy had seen Nico without sleeves for any extended period of time since that first night he'd crash landed in Percy's apartment. He eyed the wounds with concern, rolling a few questions around in his mouth for a while to try and decide whether he should say anything to Nico.

Nico, who was still muttering obscenities about Percy taking up all the space and trying to get comfortable, was oblivious for the minute to Percy's stare, but that wouldn't last long.

"Nico…" Percy began, the sentence dying before it was even fully formed in his head.

"What?" Nico asked grouchily. "If you ask me to move over again, then I'm pretty sure no jury would convict me for my response. Just saying."

Percy found that his mouth had dried out and he fought to dampen it again before speaking. He wasn't sure if that was some sort of sign that he shouldn't say anything at all, but maybe it was better to just get all of this stuff over and done with now?

"Your arms," he said eventually, deciding just to bite the bullet (a phrase which had taken on a whole new meaning since he'd been shot). "That's a lot of scars. I mean, some of them are pretty new. Post-Gaea. I thought we got most of the ones Mimas… yeah. What happened?"

The colour drained from Nico's face and he looked down at his arms; as he did so, the blood began to rapidly return to his face, colouring his cheeks and the back of his neck. Percy saw his hands twitch reflexively, clearly desperate to roll down sleeves that weren't there. Instead, they pumped futilely in and out of fists for a while as he did everything possible to avoid Percy's gaze.

"Are you cold?" Nico eventually asked nervously, making a mood to get up. "I think I need a hoodie."

Percy grabbed Nico's arm and stopped him from rising. "Sit. Not so fast," he said. "Come on, talk to me here. You can talk to me about anything. You know that. So, what happened with your arms?" Percy had grabbed Nico around the wrist and he felt his cousin's pulse rise, hammering into his fingers.

"Nothing, okay?" Nico said, staring hard at the fire escape. He tried to shake himself out of Percy's grip. "Let go," he said in a low voice when it became clear that Percy wasn't going to let him go anywhere. He looked like he was deflating. "Seriously, Percy, just drop it. Please." Nico was pleading with Percy now, desperation evident in his tone.

Percy let go of Nico's arm. He tried to seek out Nico's gaze but Nico was doing an expert job of avoiding eye contact, apparently finding the wall of Annabeth's apartment building fascinating. Even so, Percy could see tears wavering at the brim of Nico's eyes. "I'm not going to force you," Percy said. "I mean, I know you might not want to talk about this, but—"

"But what?" Nico snapped, interjecting and finally locking eyes with Percy. There was anger kindling behind them; it seemed to momentarily dry the tears. "Come on, but _what_, Percy? I can't talk to you about any of this. I know you're trying to help but, gods, you ask these questions and I can't… I don't know how to explain. It would be like trying to tell a blind person what it's like to see. You wouldn't get it. So can we drop it? Please?"

"You don't know until you try," Percy said. "I meant what I said. You can talk to me about anything. Come on, talk to me here. Try."

Nico looked pained. His eyes flicked to the open window and then the stairs down to the next level before he slowly settled back down again, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He closed his eyes and took a long inhale and exhale. "Okay," he said eventually, his voice robotic and monotone. "Fine." He paused for a long time; it looked like he was about to speak several times before he stopped himself.

Below, traffic surged in the streets. A pigeon flapped by close to their heads in a flurry of feathers. A distant radio was playing salsa music.

Eventually, Nico locked his eyes blankly into the middle distance, as if he was teetering on the edge of a sheer drop and trying desperately not to look down. "So, I don't even know why I'm asking you this, but have you ever felt like everything is just too much?" he began. "That it's all on top of you and inside of you all at once and you don't know whether you're going to implode or explode with everything you've got going on?"

"Are you kidding me?" Percy said. "You think I wouldn't get this? I've been there. I can relate. You think it's a picnic, everyone's eyes turning to you as the one who's got to save the world? _Again_?"

Nico smiled sadly; the expression didn't reach his eyes, which remained blank and impassively semi-focused on something Percy couldn't see. "I know you get that," he said. "But it's different for you because it's a side effect of being a hero. A huge hero. I get that that's scary and I get that you understand pressure, but mine was a side effect of being a loser, not a hero. I felt that way because I was this huge fuck up in so many ways, and we talked about this before — you _don't _know what it's like to be a monumental screw up."

"So help me understand," Percy said. "Let me in to the world of Nico and maybe I can help."

Nico snorted. "Your funeral," he said darkly, chewing on his lip again.

"Given that I'm pretty sure I was about an hour from my actual funeral last night, I'm feeling kind of brave on that front," Percy said. "Shoot."

Nico rifled through the folds of the blanket and extracted his cigarettes, sliding one out of the pack and putting it between his lips. Percy had no idea where his cousin's lighter was conjured from but suddenly it was just _there_; Nico flicked it open and lit his cigarette, taking a deep drag and a long exhale.

"It was a while ago now, I guess," Nico said. "Not long after my father kicked me out. I had barely come through the whole mess with Mimas, which was the worst experience of my life, and then along comes my father and takes away everything I had left. Let's face it: I already had a pretty tenuous grip on things after Mimas. It didn't take much to push me over the edge and then there's my father giving me this huge shove. I spiralled. Every dark thought I'd ever had just came at me times ten and like I said, the pressure… Have you ever felt that you need some kind of emergency control valve to blow off steam, reduce the pressure, just so you don't lose your mind?"

"With monsters dropping by uninvited as often as they do, the steam gets blown off pretty quickly," Percy said grimly. "And if things do get to that point, Clarisse is always willing to try and kick my ass for me if I need a training session."

"Well, I didn't have that, so it just built up," Nico said. "And it was different, anyway. It wasn't like pent up adrenaline and fighting thoughts it was more… just the insane weight of _everything_. Like I said, pressure. It just felt like I was carrying this huge anchor around my neck but inside my chest as well, somehow? Like it was tied to my freaking heart or something. Everything was so damn hard. Like moving through treacle. Like the pressure was holding me down? I don't know. I had no one to talk to. Everyone I knew pretty much hated me—"

"Whoa, that is _not _true," Percy said emphatically, slashing with his hands to emphasise the point. "Why would you even think that? Where the hell did you get that from?"

Nico shrugged dejectedly. "Around," he said. "I mean, I know everyone at Camp hates me. Even now. And my father made it pretty clear that I'd fucked up monumentally and he just made it seem like everyone else thought that, too. So I just assumed that you and Annabeth and Rachel…"

"Uh, you thought we'd, what? Turned into huge monsters suddenly?" Percy said scornfully. "Do I have to smack you upside the head? Nico, we're your friends. We have your back, period. No matter what."

Nico sighed. "Yeah, well, I know that _now_, maybe, but at the time, with what my father said about the drugs and having betrayed him and his realm and Olympus… The things I told Mimas could have made Gaea unstoppable. If she'd managed to pull off the ritual in the Fields of Asphodel to harness the power of all the souls held there then no one would have been able to stop her. No one. Not you, not my dad, not Zeus… game over. We'd have all been dead. It just made sense to me to think that you all hated me because I nearly ended the freaking world. Plus, you guys were all demigods or the freaking Oracle. You had Camp. You had everything going for you. I had nothing in common with you any more."

"No one judges you for giving in to Mimas," Percy said emphatically. "Most people would have broken after half what you went through. And anyway, you told him to protect us. I saw what he said to you in the ring, after… the fight. That we'd be next. And like you said, you knew the ritual would create a window that would make Mimas vulnerable. And it did — Hazel yanked an insane amount of iron ore out of the roof of the Underworld, your father turned it into a molten tsunami and Mimas died a death only a hundredth as painful as he deserved. The world didn't end."

"It could have done," Nico insisted, the speed of his rebuttal not giving him time to inhale his entire drag properly. Percy saw smoke coiling down his cousin's throat. "And if it had, it would have been my fault. I'm the guy that almost ended the fucking world, Percy. And what with the way everyone treated me even before that, can you see why I didn't think I was Mr Popular?"

Percy waved a dismissive hand. "People are scared of you," he said. "That's all."

Nico's head whipped up and he gave Percy a hard, reproachful look. He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette harder than he meant to, almost bending it in half. "Gee, thanks. You know just how to make a guy feel better. A+."

Percy rolled his eyes. "I don't mean it like that," he said, shaking his head. "That kind of came out wrong. I just meant you _think_ that people hate you, but they don't. They're just frightened. It's different. It's not hatred. I'm not saying I get it totally, but Big Three kids tend to scare people. There's a reason our dads tried to agree not to have any more kids, you know? And your dad, because of who he is and his domain, is pretty damn scary. Death frightens people, Nico. They see you, they see their own mortality. Don't mistake that for hatred. All they need to do is get to know you."

Nico screwed up his face. "Sure," he said bitterly. "Because we all know that I'm so loveable when _that _happens."

"No, you're a pain in the ass with a major attitude problem," Percy said. But you know what you also are? _Human_. Just like them. They'll see that. All you have to do is let them."

Nico looked like he was chewing on that for a while and then he sighed again, running a hand down his face for a moment. After a pause he said, "Maybe one day things can be that way. But right now, I don't feel like opening up to a bunch of people. We're only doing this because you're making me."

"I didn't say it had to be now," Percy said. "Whenever you're ready. I'm just trying to say that you don't need to feel that way anymore. People really don't hate you."

Nico sighed. "It wasn't even just the fact that I thought everyone hated me, though," he said. "It was more that I felt like the hatred had burned all my bridges and I was going to be alone and miserable forever. It just ended up with me thinking about… bad things. Very bad things. All the time. There was no way to escape it, no outlet, nothing. So I did stupid things. The last time I remembered feeling anything at all was with Mimas and Gaea. And as much as this is so fucked up in so many ways, although it was the worst thing I ever been through and I don't know if the nightmares are ever going to stop… at least it made me feel like a _person_. Like someone who actually existed. I had just started to feel so detached and drifting, and with my dad already having wiped me from the face of creation, I just needed to know that I was still _real_, that I was still human, that I could…"

Nico swallowed and his mouth tightened over the final word, trapping it in. His eyes roved over the fire escape, his gaze snagging on the spots of orange rust, which began to blur as tears threatened in his eyes. There was a lump in his throat and it felt like it was swelling from the size of a golf ball to the size of a bowling ball, and it was all he could do to hold it together and not just lose it totally. He closed his eyes, but all it did was squeeze a fat tear down his check.

Percy felt his heart sink. It was what he'd feared. "Bleed?" he prompted gently. "You did this to yourself? Nico…"

"Just spare me the lecture," Nico said tiredly, sniffing and cuffing angrily at his face. "You don't have to say anything. I know already. I know it was dumb, okay? But, believe it or not, I actually felt like it was _helping_. You don't need to tell me how messed up that is."

Percy ran a hand down his face, pausing for a while on his chin. It was bristly with stubble and he scratched at it, rasping his nails along his jaw. "It was messed up," he said eventually, his voice carefully even. "It was, Nico, but then _you_ were pretty messed up." Nico looked up angrily at him, his eyes burning, and Percy held up his hands defensively. "Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad here. After everything you've been through, it's not exactly surprising. You get a pass. What I meant was, sure it was messed up but the key word there is _was_. And you're coming out of the other side of that now, right?"

Nico dropped his gaze into his lap. His thumbs had been working overtime on the hem of the blanket and the fabric was starting to fray under the onslaught. He gave a small, humourless laugh and his shoulders twitched in a tiny semblance of a shrug.

"I don't know the answer to that question," he said quietly. "Sometimes I think yeah, but then… I don't know. I still think about doing it. Back then, I didn't do it just because I felt like it. It pretty much became another addiction all by itself. It was a distraction. A way not to have to face up to how screwed up my life had become. There were a ton of reasons and I know that they were so fantastically, incredibly wrong but you know what? It worked. It got me through. I know it's stupid but sometimes, it felt like it was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind."

"You can't rely on self-harm to get you though, Nico," Percy said. "Gods. It's the world's worst coping mechanism."

"Thanks," Nico bit out harshly. "Such great wisdom you have. Don't you think I know that? Do you think I thought that it was a logical and rational thing to do?" The more he said the angrier he got; he could feel it building up in him like steam waiting to be vented.

"I knew it was fucked up," he pressed on with savagely. "I knew I shouldn't have been sitting there watching blood roll down my arm just so I could feel something. I hated myself for being screwed up enough to do it in the first place and I hated myself because it made me feel better. So then I'm sat there bleeding and for a second it's all okay because I'm there and I'm real; I don't feel like I'm a stranger outside my body looking in for a brief moment. But then it's back to hating myself, to feeling empty and like I was about to wink out of existence and that I _hollow_, so it's time to do it again. Or pop whatever pill you've got handy. Or both. You _see_? You see how fucked up I am? Why would anyone at Camp want to deal with me? The crazy son of Hades. I'm probably certifiable. How can I inflict that on people? It's bad enough that I'm sitting here doing it to you."

Nico finished speaking and got to his feet, pacing quickly over to the other end of the fire escape. He wound his fingers around the cool railing and gripped hard until his fingers began to ache, and then tighter still, until he could feel knots bunching in his forearms. He tried to take slow, measured breaths to calm himself down but deep breaths were having trouble getting around the lump that had formed in his throat.

Percy closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sort of wished he'd never started the conversation and wondered if it was actually helping Nico at all. It was probably a conversation that Nico needed to have at some point if he was going to be able to move on, and Percy needed to know all the facts if he was going to help Nico rebuild his life. But the pain in Nico's voice, the fact that he was desperately trying not to cry right now, made Percy feel like he'd been punched in the gut. Guilt wormed its way through him. Was he only making things worse? What was he doing, trying to play therapist? Who was he trying to kid, thinking he had the qualifications to Nico?

Nico tilted his head back and started at the sky before closing his eyes and slowly turning around. "I'm sorry, Percy," he said quietly, dropping his head to study his bare feet. The movement dislodged two more tears, which zipped down his cheeks. He bit down hard on his tongue to try and stop more coming, watching the two that had just fallen shatter into his borrowed jeans and blossom through the denim. "Just ignore me, okay? I shouldn't have said anything. I'm freaking you out. You don't need this shit."

"No," Percy said firmly, looking up. "Absolutely no. Anyway, I'm the one who forced you to have this conversation. You're not freaking me out. I just… it's one more way life has been so hard for you. Just when I think it can't get any worse for you, when I think I've got to the bottom of it…"

"Sub-basement," Nico said grimly, watching his toes writhe awkwardly. "Yeah. I get it. I am messed up on so many levels even I don't know them all. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Percy said. "I'm sorry for bringing this up. I don't know, I guess I just like to sit here pretending I know what I'm doing and I thought maybe if you could talk about it, it would help? Plus, it makes me wish that I could turn back time for you. I get so mad that this happened to you and you had to go through it alone."

Nico smiled sadly. "You couldn't have changed anything," he said. "I think it's just something… I don't know." His forehead crinkled. "Maybe it was something I had to go through. It made me who I am. It wasn't smart and it's not a story I'm going to break out at dinner parties but I've got to look at the fact that I'm not doing it right now, despite everything, even though I want to, and realise that that's a big thing."

"It is," Percy said. "Look, promise me that, no matter what we're both doing or where we are, that you come to me the next time you feel like you need to do that to yourself. Okay? That goes for the drugs as well. I don't care what I'm doing; it's nothing that I'm not going to drop for you. I know that this isn't going to happen overnight and that there are going to be times where you get tempted but come and find me. We'll figure it out."

"Deal," Nico said. "I don't want to go back there, Percy. I came back from it once. I don't know if I can pull it off a second time."

Percy extended his pinky finger. Nico looked at it blankly for a while, confusion eventually overtaking the haunted look he'd been harbouring in his eyes since the start of the conversation, before it clicked and he gave an eye roll so big it would give Argus a run for his money.

"You want me to pinky swear?" Nico asked incredulously. "_Seriously_? Again: how old are you?"

Percy's face split into an inane grin and he wiggled his finger up and down. "Hey, you said it was a deal. Come on, don't leave me hanging here."

Nico looked down at Percy's finger, then back at Percy's face again. There was nothing to suggest Percy was going to relent so he gave another monumental eye roll and pushed himself off the railing, walking back over to Percy. He extended his own finger, gripping Percy's.

"There," Percy said. "That wasn't so bad, huh?"

Nico snorted and shook his head in disbelief. Percy was still grinning and it was pretty damn contagious, and he felt it start to permeate his own face. Eventually, he gave a reluctant grin before taking a deep breath, using the exhale to give himself both a physical and mental shake. Weirdly, he realised that he actually did feel lighter now than maybe he'd ever done, even if the road to this point had been pretty bumpy. He didn't know if it was simply that he'd shared his past, or whether it was relief that he'd done it and didn't have the conversation looming over him anymore, but whatever it was it had kind of worked. He sniffed, easing himself back down next to Percy and drawing his legs up again, using his bent knees t0 blot the remnants of tears from his face.

"You know, this whole conversation has been a pretty big departure from wanting to tie me up in a meat-flavoured sack and throw me to wolves," he eventually said casually, looking sideways at Percy to gauge his cousin's reaction.

Percy froze, tension leaping into his shoulders. A couple of words died haltingly in his throat; more followed without sound on his lips as his mouth worked. "You… uh…?" he managed eventually, wincing and rubbing the back of his head. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "You heard about that, huh?"

Nico reached down for the book he'd been reading when Percy had found him, waving it through the air. "I didn't need to hear about it. It's right here, for everyone to see. Annabeth had it on her bookshelf. I skipped the first couple in the series because apparently your life didn't start when I turned up, and _whatever _to that, but I'm in this one. Pretty interesting read so far. And also, apparently you're a superhero. Who knew?"

Nico tossed the book into Percy's lap; again Percy winced, colour flaring from under his chin to his cheeks as his eyes travelled across the front cover.

_The Titan's Curse_, by Sally Blofis.

"Come on, I don't think she makes me a _super_hero…" Percy said awkwardly. "It's just… moms, right? I think she let being proud of me take over just a little bit too much. Like, so much I wish I could pull a you and make a massive hole to jump into, you know? And then while I'm in it I think I'd just like to kind of… _die. _Of embarrassment. I mean, I'm really glad she's found a creative outlet and it's been good for her to write these books, but you have no idea the shit I get every time one of these hits the shelves. And she's going to write _five_, I think? It's killing me, I'm not gonna lie. That one's only just come out. I keep finding things I've only said casually _years _ago popping up there."

"Like wanting to tie me up in a meat-flavoured sack?" Nico asked pointedly.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I felt like that yesterday," Percy said, his face splitting into a grin. "Didn't you notice me spending all day looking for a sack big enough?"

Nico narrowed his eyes. "You may go to Tartarus," he said. "At the back of an infinite line I might create just for you."

"Aww, for me?" Percy said. "You shouldn't have. I feel so special."

Nico's eyes narrowed further to dangerous slits. "You should, what with the special place I'll be creating in the Underworld just for you."

"So dramatic," Percy said, rolling his eyes. "All this over the meat sack thing?"

Nico's reached forward and snatched the book out of Percy's lap, rifling roughly through the pages. "The meat sack thing _in print,_" he gritted out. "That makes it _way _worse."

Percy squirmed uncomfortably, nodding. "I know. I'm sorry. I mean, I don't feel like that _now_. I don't think I even really felt like it then. It's just the first impression I had of you. I think the point of my mom writing it is that I start off feeling that way about you and then through everything…" He paused, considering. "Through everything, we get to here, with us sat on a fire escape and you hogging the best part of the fort."

"It's not a damn _fort_," Nico bit out indignantly. "Quit saying that."

"I can call it a nest if you think that will make it sound more rugged," Percy suggested amiably.

Nico set his jaw in irritation. "Fine," he growled. "It's a _fort_. But still better than a meat sack."

Percy sighed. "I know. I deserve this," he said. "And I am sorry. The meat sack thing… Look, I think I said it to her _once_, when you appeared and had birthday cake and I said to her that you weren't so bad considering that when I first met you I wanted to tie you up in a meat-flavoured sack and feed you to wolves and apparently my mom has a scary retentive memory because the next thing you know… Yeah." He gestured emphatically to the book with a grimace; he was regarding it nervously, Nico noted, as if it were going to bite him. "I love my mom, I really do, and like I said I'm pleased she has a creative outlet and thank the gods she's using her married name but… it's a shitstorm every time one comes out. She seemed so enthusiastic about writing them, though. I just… I couldn't say no, could I?"

"They're selling well, aren't they?" Nico asked. "This is why you have such a nice apartment, isn't it? Even though you've spent the last couple of days wandering around with me instead of going to work?"

Percy groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Gods. Yeah. Thanks for bringing that up. Just to make me feel even more like crap. Yeah, my mom got a five book deal with scope for more after that if she wants. I think last time I checked, they'd been at the top of _The New York Times_' Best Seller list for kids' books for 220 weeks, maybe? A long time. They're selling like freaking hot cakes. And I'm pleased for my mom. I am. Notice how I keep saying that? Like I'm reminding myself… Anyway, as if the books weren't enough, making me want to turn into a giant puddle of embarrassment, it makes me feel so much better to not be able to hold down a decent job because monsters keep wrecking every single offer of employment I get and have my mom help with my rent."

"Hey, it could be worse. You could be on top of the Best Seller list as this annoying kid who needs to be fed to wolves," Nico huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

Percy rolled his eyes hard. "That's all you take away from this? It's how I _used _to feel. I'd take on a pack of wolves for you now, man. Give me some credit. I was a kid back then, too. Now, it's different. You've grown on me."

Nico glared at him, flattening his cigarette out on the railing again. "What, like a fungus?"

Percy tilted his head, considering it. "Not so far from the truth," he said, starting to nod but then raising his hands defensively as Nico's glare intensified. "Hey, but, like, a happy fungus. You're… penicillin."

"Do you tell Annabeth you love her like penicillin?" Nico demanded. "Because if you do, that might explain why she was so grumpy just now."

Percy shrugged. "I think I said it once," he said, his forehead creasing into a mild frown. "She didn't seem that happy about it, to be honest. I don't get it. It's a _good _thing."

"Percy, no one wants to be fungus," Nico said exasperatedly, eyeing his cousin in disbelief. "What is wrong with you? Quit telling people they're fungus and you'll get a lot further in life, okay?"

"_Useful _fungus?" Percy tried hopefully.

Nico's nostrils flared. "Stop saying fungus!" he bit out. "Seriously, when it comes down to _me _giving you lectures on how to behave you know it's bad. Quit it."

"Mould?" Percy suggested, his face a mask of innocence apart from the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nico ground his teeth. "I will punch you," he said. "And if you think this is going to distract me from the meat-flavoured sack issue then you are wrong."

"Come _on_," Percy said. "The horse is dead. Beating it isn't going to get you anywhere. I thought it _once_ and I was having a bad day. Manticore? Annabeth kidnapped? Plus, you know, you did kind of ask a fuckton of questions. Maybe this is your fault."

Nico smiled distantly, almost like he was looking back into the past. "Hey, I was _excited_. I lived for Mythomagic and it was coming to life right in front of me. You were the first hero I'd ever met. What was I supposed to do apart from ask a fuckton of questions?" He frowned, thought briefly and began flicking rapidly through the book. "Speaking of fucktons of anything, that's another thing I noticed," he said. "I'm looking through trying to find all the good bits, the ones with me in it, obviously, and I can't believe how tame it is. I mean, I know you were only, like, fourteen but even so it's very… PG. I don't remember it being so PG when you were facing down the Manticore. Even fourteen-year-old you had a mouth. Bianca…" He paused briefly, something dark scudding across his face like a fast-moving cloud barrelling past the sun on a breezy day, before it vanished. "Bianca was actually pretty pissed at you. She had spent so much time trying to keep me from learning curse words and there you were shooting them off like a machinegun."

"Dude, we just covered this. It was the _Manticore_ and it had just kidnapped Annabeth," Percy said. "What were you expecting, 'Oh shucks'?"

"That's pretty much what you said according to your mom," Nico said slyly, cracking the book open and taking a breath.

Percy acted quickly, yanking the book out of Nico's hands and tossing it over the railing. It landed with a splat on the sidewalk below; someone yelled in indignation from down on the street, which Percy ignored.

"Yeah, there'll be no readings or re-enactments of _that_," Percy said decisively. "Because I'm not above revisiting the meat sack idea. I don't think my mom knows the extent of my ability to swear, and especially not back then. And that's the way it's going to stay, if you value your life."

Nico smiled. "Fine," he said. "I can keep that secret. But what happens when you have to fight a monster in front of her? You do it like a gentleman? Because if you're selling tickets to that, that's something I'd be really interested in seeing."

"Nah," Percy said with an affable shrug. "That's easy: I'll just bite out my tongue."

One of Nico's eyebrows quirked upwards. "You couldn't have come up with that plan, like, 10 years ago?" he asked. "Silencing yourself would have saved you so much trouble."

"Yeah, but things wouldn't have been anywhere near as interesting," Percy said, grinning.

Nico snorted. "That's one way to look at it," he muttered. He picked up the blanket again, running his thumbs down the edge until he felt the section he'd pulled the stitching apart. He toyed with it absently, feeling a couple more threads snap under the onslaught. "Percy… I just… without you, I don't know… I know it's stupid, it's just…" He swallowed, clearing his throat before looking up at Percy and holding his cousin's gaze. "Thank you. For today. For everything."

Percy waved a hand. "It's what I'm here for," he said. "Don't forget it, okay? And anyway, it's me who should be thanking you."

Nico blinked. "Why?"

"For quitting with the rapid fire questions," Percy said. "It was going to be tough to find a meat-flavoured sack big enough to tie you up in these days."

Nico's mouth opened in both shock and indignation. Once he'd gathered himself, he punched Percy on the upper arm. "_Dick_," he said.

Percy grinned. "Fungus," he replied.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey.**

**I am so, so sorry this took so long to get out. Like, a ridiculously long time. I had so much trouble ending it and I had to do a lot of scrapping it and starting again. I've also been creatively blocked lately, very much so, which I think mostly can be attributed to the fact that I've not had much chance to read fiction a lot lately. It's true what they say: if you want to write a lot, first you have to read a lot.**

**Apologies also to everyone I owe review replies to. I will make time for you as soon as I can. I haven't stopped caring, believe me.**

**This is now the final chapter of this fic. My usual thanks to JJDracula, without whom none of this would even have made it into being. Thank you everyone for supporting me on this amazing journey. I'm sorry it has taken so long to get to this point, but the end is finally in sight. It's been a privilege writing for you all and I want to thank you for sticking with me and leaving me with so many kind reviews. You've all been awesome.**

**Thanks for having me.**

**Marzipan.**

* * *

><p>Percy waited out the rest of the day at Annabeth's before he risked coming back to his apartment. He was half expecting to see an eviction notice on the door, but all seemed okay as he let himself in. Maybe the other tenants hadn't been able to point out his apartment as the source for the sonic screeching. Good news, because he was so not looking to be homeless right now.<p>

The apartment was in total darkness. Percy flicked the light switches, but nothing happened. He almost smacked himself in the forehead. Of course. Anything with the capacity to shatter had shattered thanks to the Sirens, including the lightbulbs.

"Crap. I should have bought a—" Percy began.

Nico pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on, walking past Percy into the apartment.

"Flashlight," Percy continued. "Huh. Where the hell did you get a flashlight from?"

Nico let the beam of the flashlight rove over the apartment. It stopped short on the plywood nailed up at the windows before continuing down to the floor. Shards of glass glimmered under the light like specks of gold at the bottom of a prospector's murky pan.

"I stole it from Annabeth's." Nico shrugged it off, continuing to let the light wander around the wreck of the apartment. "Why didn't you think of this?"

Percy closed his eyes. "When she comes looking for it tomorrow, the story will be _I _took it and I _borrowed _it from her. If you value your life, I mean."

Nico swung the beam around, temporarily blinding Percy. When he realised what he was doing, he let the light drop to the floor. "Oops. Sorry. But what do you mean, if I value my life? She had a whole shelf in this insane survivalist's closet full of flashlights and spare batteries. I doubt she'll even notice it's gone."

"Nico, when have you ever known Annabeth to not have at least three separate ways of cataloguing and categorising the things she owns? She will notice it's gone and yes, she will be mad you took it without asking."

"She has about five thousand flashlights. I don't think this is going to be the one which decides whether she lives or dies."

"Try telling Annabeth." Percy walked forward and took the light off Nico. His shoes crunched on scattered shards. He shone the beam on the windows and walked over to inspect the work, pushing on it. It seemed solid. "I guess they got contractors in to board up everyone's windows. This should keep the worst of the weather out for now. What with Fifth Avenue needing new glass, only the gods know when we'll actually get proper windows."

"We should have stayed at Annabeth's." Nico wrenched a couch cushion free, shook it clear of glass and replaced it upside down so he could sit down without impaling himself.

"What, you liked sleeping on her couch that much? Besides, I'm trying to keep you alive. I don't think that mixes so well with you staying at Annabeth's. Especially not with you taking her stuff without asking." Percy crossed the apartment and pulled Nico to his feet. "Come on. Get up. Thank the gods we live in New York City, where there's no shortage of places to buy lightbulbs in bulk long after other cities have closed up for the night."

Nico groaned, trying to resist Percy pulling him to his feet. "Really? I did not sign up for late night lightbulb shopping."

Percy kept pulling. "Yeah, well, I didn't sign up for a smart ass roommate. I guess we're both going to have to suck it up." He finally got Nico to his feet. "Plus after the lightbulbs, we're getting pizza because I am starving and we both deserve it."

Nico snorted. "Why the hell didn't you lead with the pizza? I would have been all over it." He marched out of the apartment, sticking his head around the door. "What are we waiting for? Pizza is not going to buy itself."

* * *

><p>Percy knew he should be tired, but he <em>wasn't<em>. Maybe it was because he'd slept in so late after the blood loss and amateur surgery, but there was no way he was going to get any sleep. With a sigh, he rolled onto his side and then tossed onto his stomach. The covers churned over him. To make sure they weren't sleeping on beds of glass fakir-style, he'd flipped his and Nico's mattresses, but the rush job he'd done on the bottom sheet had come untucked. I was rumpling underneath him, further adding to his sense of annoyance.

He stared at the chink of light coming in around the side of one of the pieces of plywood and at the curtain flickering in the draught it let in. This was crazy.

The covers went airborne as he threw them off him and plunged his feet into a sturdy pair of boots by the bed. He was not about to walk the shattered glass gauntlet in the dark. They'd replaced the lightbulbs, but Percy didn't want to turn any lights on in case he woke Nico up. As Percy reached his bedroom door, he realised he had no idea what he was actually going to do — he assumed his TV was a goner. It made him pause for a split second before he wrenched open the door anyway. He had to do _something _or he'd go insane.

There were lights on in the apartment. That surprised him. Frowning, he crunched his way down the hall and into the living area. What he saw made him stop and take a step back. Was he actually asleep and dreaming? Because otherwise, what he was seeing made no sense.

Nico was wandering around the apartment with a trash bag trailing after him, picking up the larger shards off the furniture and dumping them in the bag. Admittedly, he wasn't cleaning very efficiently and he seemed to be collecting half the broken glass and ceramic under the bag as he dragged it around, but he was still cleaning. It was enough to make Percy pinch himself.

Nope. Definitely awake.

"Did you get replaced by a pod person?" Percy asked, leaning against the wall. "You're… _cleaning_."

Nico looked up, his fingers tightening for a second on the mouth of the bag. He looked like he'd been caught in the act of something much worse. He relaxed, heaving a shrug. "Yeah. I know. Weird, huh? I can't even believe it. I had to do something and the TV is well and truly dead. I couldn't—"

"Sleep? Yeah. It's going around."

Nico nodded. "Adrenaline. It's a bitch. Plus, I'm going to have to get used to sleeping again without pills. Apparently, I've still got a lot to learn." He saw Percy's face tighten at the comment and jingled the trash bag at Percy to fill the awkward silence the confession left. "I didn't even know where to start. I have no idea how you're meant to start cleaning up a mess like this. Maybe you should move."

"You don't have to do this, Nico. It can wait."

Nico bent at the waist and started picking up the debris from the broken coffee table. The trash bag was soon bulging with empty takeout containers and two table legs. "I know, but I want to. Gotta keep busy. Busy busy or go insane, you know?"

"Nico—"

"I'm fine, Percy. Let me do this. Besides, you might never see me clean again. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"I was just going to ask if you want a broom."

Nico arched an eyebrow; the wrenching knot he tied his full trash bag in was all the answer Percy needed.

"Okay. Baby steps. I got it," Percy said, holding up his hands and laughing. "I'm going to sweep. I thought I didn't have the energy to deal with this mess until morning but it turns out I'm apparently not allowed to sleep tonight, so…"

Percy fetched a broom. Shards tinkled against each other as he propelled them across the kitchen tile.

Nico watched the pile of broken glass grow for a few minutes before sagging and retracing Percy's earlier steps to a closet, returning with a dustpan. "You bring out the worst in me. First you have me saving people's lives and now I'm _sweeping_." He bent down; Percy began to sweep glass into the dustpan.

"You'll be a model citizen before you know it," Percy said with a grin.

Nico glared at him as he opened a new trash bag and crashed the glass in the dustpan into it. They worked in silence for a few minutes; the tile floor eventually became more visible.

"You're probably sick of me asking this by now, but are you okay?" Percy asked. "You were quiet over pizza and you're quiet now. It's sort of freaking me out. You don't do quiet."

Nico gave a small, one-shoulder shrug. "Sure. I guess. I'm still trying to get my brain to catch up with everything from the past few days. Big changes, you know?"

"Yeah, but good changes. Right? I mean, I know the Sirens came along and made a mess of everything but you know how monsters love to pick their moment."

Nico nodded. "Weirdly, I think the Sirens might actually have helped me out. I don't know. Like I said, I'm trying to get it all straight. One minute I'm freaking out because suddenly I'm back to being a demigod and my father is yelling at me about my responsibilities and the next… maybe it was the best thing that could have happened? I didn't feel like I was really back, like I was really here. It didn't seem so permanent. Now I think about it, having survived the Sirens and done all the demigod stuff and still be standing at the end of it… it sort of feels like I got back on the horse at just the right time."

Percy leaned on his broom and eyed Nico up and down. "Okay, I'll let you have this one but for the record, no more saying monster attacks are a good thing. It sounds like you're wishing for them and my apartment can seriously not take any more destruction."

Nico nudged the bulging trash bag with his foot. "Hey, I were you not there when I risked life and limb ditching those old takeout containers? They were two days from plotting to take over the galaxy. This might be the best thing to happen to the place in years."

Percy smiled. Some of the tension left his chest. He had been worried when he'd seen Nico awake and actually cleaning that Nico was unsettled or thinking about vanishing again, but it seemed less likely now. He was going to stay, but he was struggling to deal. Percy could relate.

"I was going to start a museum with those. Or discover a new antibiotic. I wasn't sure which yet. You could have tossed out the one advance to medical science capable of saving us all."

"You were trying to create sentient life, Percy. Don't lie. You were trying to grow some friends in those containers because, let's face it, you've got to find someone who will talk to you."

Percy brandished his broom. "I'm not above smacking you with this, FYI. It would be way more fun than using it for cleaning. A little something for you to bear in mind."

Nico's eyes glittered. "You'd have to catch me first." His gaze slid down to the floor, squashing the sparkle under the weight. Even after sweeping, tiny slivers of glass still twinkled up at him. He felt his face contort into a frown. "I know I've got a long way to go," he said.

Percy twirled the broom, tossing it up in the air with one hand and snatching it, still spinning, out of the air with the other. "Sure. Have you seen the state of the place? I'm going to have you vacuuming by the end of this." When Nico let that slide, Percy missed the broom in surprise. It clattered to the floor. "You're not talking about the apartment, huh?"

Nico shook his head. "Nope. I kind of wish I was, because even the way it looks now, the apartment is still going to be way easier to fix than me." He leant against the back of the couch, shifting position as some of the embedded shards stabbed him in the legs.

"Hey, weren't you saying how you were glad the Sirens came and trashed the joint because you needed to get back on the horse?"

Nico nodded, rubbing at his face. "I was. And I still mean it. Not least because when you're running for your life and generally trying to avoid death, you don't have time to think about how much you'd like a Valium." Nico snorted in a vague attempt at a laugh, but it was entirely humourless and flat. "Gods, I don't know."

Percy twisted his mouth and stayed silent. Nico abandoned his trash bag and tucked his hands under his armpits, his gaze zigzagging across the floor without taking any of it in.

Percy reached for one of the kitchen chairs and tapped it on the floor, dislodging a cascade of splinters as he did so, before sinking into it. He suddenly felt very old. "You want to take pills now?"

Nico swallowed. "Now. Yesterday. Probably tomorrow. It's never going to go away, is it?"

"No."

Nico looked up, blinking at the directness of the answer.

Percy shrugged at him. "What, did you want me to lie to you? I can't. Sorry. I'm not an expert or from a fancy rehab or anything but I think this is something which is going to stay with you for a long time. Time helps, sure, but I think a lot of the time you're going to have to deal with the fact you want to take pills."

"Yeah, but I don't want to be such a fuck up, Percy. I want to do better."

"You are not a fuck up. Quit saying it. If I have to get you a shock collar to yank you out of the habit I will."

One corner of Nico's mouth twitched up into a vague attempt at a smile. Percy realised he didn't think he'd seen Nico smile properly since he'd been back. It only added to the sense of weight in his chest.

"You think I'm kidding but we live in a city where we can bulk buy lightbulbs at two in the morning, so I have no doubt I will find a place selling human shock collars. It may need a vat of brain bleach to erase the memory of having to go that kind of shop in the first place but if it gets you to stop beating yourself up it will be worth it." Percy picked up his broom from the floor and pointed with it for emphasis, as if his stare wasn't enough.

Nico closed his eyes, rubbing them to try and erase the images Percy had conjured up. "Oh, gods. Hey, even with everything I've seen imagining you in a sex shop is still way too far for me. You may get to see my pizza all over again."

Percy smiled. "Agreed. Let's never mention it and never give me any reason to go there, okay? Look, Nico… like I keep telling you, you went through some horrific shit. It's a miracle you're still here and as whole as you are. Plenty of people would never have come out of the other side. That's how I know you're strong enough to keep beating this thing. You've survived things so many other people couldn't have survived. And you are doing better. Compared with this time last week, think how far you've come."

Nico's eyes rolled nearly out of his head as he set about teasing embedded shards of glass and ceramic out of the back of the couch. "Yeah, I've gone from being minutes from death to being… minutes from death. It's such a refreshing change of pace for me."

"Pipe down. You don't seem to think I'm serious about coming over there with this broom. You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I do. I mean, I know you're serious about the broom and I do know what you mean. Sorry. It's just… so much has happened in a few days, you know?" Nico said. "I think I'm still processing. First I came back, and then Himeros, and then my dad, and then the Sirens… Even for a demigod, we've had a pretty packed schedule. This is the first time I've had time to think and I'm kind of freaking out. I want to be everything you said but at the same time there are not enough bell boys in the world for the baggage I'm hauling. You have helped me out so much but with everything I've got going on…" Nico swallowed hard. "It would be easy to let you down."

"Please, you could never let me down. I don't think highly enough of you for you to let me down." Percy grinned as Nico's head snapped up; the grin widened as Nico narrowed his eyes at Percy.

"Hey, have I ever told you you're kind of a dick?"

Percy pretended to think. "No… nope. It's not ringing any bells." Nico continued to glare at him and he threw up his hands and laughed. "Oh come on, man. Lighten up. Of course you could never let me down. Don't be stupid. Also, you need to remember there's nothing you can do about your past. It happened. It sucked, but it happened. You can't change it now. So now focus on living and getting better. That's all you need to do."

"Easy for you to say," Nico muttered, still yanking bits of glass out of the back of the couch.

"Hey, it's gonna be easy for you to say one day, too. I know it might not seem like it now, but it will get easier. There'll probably be days where you don't think about it at all, even without the Sirens to distract you. And then there'll be days where it's harder. It's a long-haul thing. I wish I could make this better for you, snap my fingers and solve all of your problems but… life is tough, man. Life is really hard and it's about how you deal with it that defines who you are as a person. Right now, you're saying no to drugs. If you keep saying no, and it will get easier, then you'll be in recovery. But you've got to keep saying no. There's no cheat code here."

What appeared to be half a bowl came free in Nico's hand. If either of them had got in the way of such a big piece of shrapnel, they'd be staring at their intestines before knowing what had happened. Nico grimaced at it and tossed it into his trash bag. "I'm going to do better, Percy." He nodded once and dusted off his hands.

"I know. What are you telling me for? I'm not the one doubting you. The only person doubting you here is yourself. Give yourself some credit, for the gods' sake. Think about everything you've been through, everything you've survived, and know you are strong. A fighter. And you can do this. I'm not going anywhere, either. We can do this together."

Nico's gaze locked with Percy's for a long time. His dark eyes seemed to be searching for something until eventually he seemed to find what he was looking for. "You… want me to stay." Nico cocked his head; his forehead furrowed. The bag slipped gradually through his fingers, rumbling and clinking into a pool on the floor.

Percy got up and walked over to Niclo, a benevolent smile covering the smack upside the head he delivered to his cousin. "Okay, are you deaf or really, really slow? Because what have I already said a thousand times? Yes, I want you to stay you freaking idiot. Gods. Do you think I'd say it over and over and over again if I didn't mean it? Again: yes, I want you to stay. Repeat: stay."

Nico was rubbing the spot Percy had smacked him. "Firstly, _ow_. Thanks for the concussion. Secondly, I don't know. I thought… it was just one of those things people say. That they want you around, when really they're hoping to never see you again. You know, like… the thing people do where they say stuff they don't mean so they don't hurt anyone's feelings. The thing I suck at."

Percy stared at him with his mouth open. "I swear to the gods it's like…" He shook his head, running a hand backwards through his hair. "Like, have you ever interacted with actual people before? Ever? Those things you're talking about would be called tact and being _polite_ and… You know, I guess it makes sense you don't have any grasp of those concepts because yeah, you are pretty much never either of those things. But no, I am not being _polite _when I say I want you around. I want you to stay. Period. I want you to get better. Period. Besides, we're family. Families aren't polite to each other, gods. Have you not learned anything from our dads? Families smack each other upside the head when they're being dumb. It's what we do."

Nico's shrug was uncertain; he was rubbing his upper arms. "I don't… It's kind of new for me to have someone say they want me around and actually mean it, Percy. That's all. It's rare enough for someone to say it and even when they do, most people toss it out there but when it comes down to it…" He bobbed his head, staring downward. "Yeah. Not so much."

"I'm not that guy. And I hope to the gods I never will be. I would hate to be that guy."

The floor began to swim in front of Nico's eyes, adding to the effect of the shards of glass looking like fish in an aquarium. Hot pinpricks swelled behind his eyes and he sniffed. He ground his teeth together, trying desperately to turn off the tap, close the floodgate, but he couldn't do it. A tear escaped down his cheek. He was biting the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood, but it wasn't enough to stop it.

"Nico, are you… crying? Hey, come on. I didn't hit you _that _hard."

Nico shook his head; his voice clotted in his throat, spasming around words. He looked up with reddened eyes, shimmering behind tears. "Sorry," he eventually managed. "It's not that. No one wants me around, Percy. No one. To hear someone say it and mean it is really weird, okay?"

"Where is this coming from? People do want you around, Nico. Don't be an idiot."

Nico tried a snort of derision through a clogged nose. The resulting sound wasn't pretty. "Please. I scare demigods and satyrs and most other supernatural creatures on the planet. I scare the freaking gods because I'm a child of the Big Three who isn't supposed to exist. Elle obviously didn't want me. I can't believe I ever thought she did. My dad only wants me when it's convenient for him half the time, like when he tried to make me the child of the Prophecy or needs something else ridiculous done in the Underworld. What am I supposed to think?"

"Hey, come on. That's the past. It's behind you now. Of course I want you around. Of course I mean it. And you have plenty of other people who want you around as well."

"Do I? Besides you… Even Bianca…" His treacherous throat convulsed again, giving time for extra tears to break free. He felt glass and china scraping into his back as he slid down the back of the couch and onto the floor and welcomed the biting pain. "Bianca was everything to me," he said, his voice as distant as the glazed stare sliding over his eyes. "She was my sister. My best friend. And then the second she had the opportunity to join the Hunters, she took it. She _left me_. I know I wasn't always the best brother and I know she had to be a mom to me for so long and maybe she needed space, but my own sister just… _left_. And then when I went to look for her in the Underworld, she had been reborn. She didn't even _wait _for me then."

Percy sighed. "Before she died, I think she thought she was giving you a better life, Nico. One she didn't know how to give you. She finally had people to rely on to love you and take care of you. No kid her age should have to be a mom. I'm not saying she did the right thing but I don't think she did it because she didn't want you around. I think she did it to save both of you, in a way."

"Well, let's chalk that one up as a miserable failure," Nico bit out. "She got herself killed and me… maybe I would have been better off that way, too. I look back and it's all shit, Percy. I've lurched from one fuck up to another all my life. What kind of person does that make me?"

"Do you want me to hit you again? The next time you mention deciding not to live I'm going to smack you into next week. You don't have to be embarrassed about the life you've lead. Most people would have never made it through a tiny amount of what you did. And you have plenty to live for now. We're all here for you, Nico."

Nico shook his head, scrubbing tears from his face with his sleeve. "No one says they want me around and actually means it. You have no idea what it's like. You have a mom and Annabeth and a whole freaking camp of demigods who love you and want you around. No one has ever said that about me before and actually meant it."

"Don't get upset because you think people don't want youl. They do." Percy swished his foot across the floor to make a space relatively clear of glass so he could sit down in front of Nico. "See? Would I be risking turning my ass into a pincushion if I didn't want you around? Seriously, I'd be less concerned about sitting on a porcupine right now than on this floor."

Nico looked up. "You think I'm crying because people don't want me? Are you kidding? Please. I got over that years ago. How the hell else was I supposed to go on? This embarrassing mess is because this is the first time in a long time someone has wanted me around for me, despite all my fuck ups, and actually meant it. It doesn't happen to me, okay? So yeah, I'm freaking out over it."

"Well, you better get used to it. There's going to be a lot of it coming your way. It's not just me who wants you to stick around."

Nico nodded. "It's going to be weird, isn't it?"

Percy snorted and rolled his eyes. "Only if you make it weird. Which… given who you are yeah. It's probably going to be really weird. But you'll adjust, even if I have to force it on you. I'm pretty good at changing people's minds."

"You're also pretty good at bragging. Just tossing it out there."

Percy breathed on his nails and buffed them on his shirt. "What can I say? I'm also pretty good at killing Medusa, defeating Ares and saving the world a few times over. It's a gift."

"Wow. I never thought I'd feel sympathy for Annabeth but if this is the kind of person she has to put up with then I have a whole new appreciation for her," Nico said, managing to laugh while shaking his head.

"There are plenty of reasons I love her, but the simple fact she puts up with me is pretty much the biggest part of it," Percy said, his face splitting into a grin. "And I know neither of you exactly see eye-to-eye, but she'll be there for you as much as I will if you need her. All of us will. If you ever need someone to talk to and I'm not around, Annabeth will listen. She wants you to get better just as much as I do. And if you'd rather not talk to either of us but you still want to talk, then Annabeth keeps a spreadsheet of ex-campers from the past 50 years to keep tabs on what they're doing now. There are plenty of people on there who can help you. Some of them went on to become therapists and shrinks. They could help you through all of this.

"I know you might not want to talk now but one day you might want to and there are so many people out there. I'm not trying to pressurise you into talking to anyone and if you don't want to talk fine, I'm on board but if you do want to then we can make it happen. The world owes you, Nico. It's time we all started repaying the debt."

"Okay. Thanks." Nico's voice had a poorly-maintained mechanical edge to it, like rusted cogs grinding reluctantly against each other. He understood what Percy was saying but it was too much for his brain to even contemplate, let alone actually consider doing.

"You okay?" Percy asked, his forehead creasing in concern. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I only meant… you know. I'm not trying to force you to talk about it but if you want to then…"

Nico blinked, then shook his head. "I'm fine. Sorry. It's hard enough to get my head around people wanting me around and wanting to help me so when it comes to actually considering it… yeah. I'm not there right now. I can't. Thinking about going back to that place and reliving everything… I don't know how much of me there will be left at the end of it all if I start picking at that scab. It needs to stay in the past, at least for now."

Percy held up his hands. "Fine. Totally, absolutely fine. Like I said, I'm not trying to force anything on you. If you want to talk about it, I'm here. If you want someone else, we'll find someone else. If you don't want to talk about it, then as long as you're doing okay that's fine as well. This is your life. No one gets to live it but you."

"Huh," Nico said.

"What?"

"My life," Nico echoed. For so long it had felt like someone else's life: first Minos', then his dad's, then Mimas', then came the drugs and Elle and Himeros. He realised he hadn't been properly in control of who he was and what he wanted to do for the longest time, and now maybe that time had come.

A wave seemed to crash over him, numbing all thoughts and feelings into nothing but a dull, churning roar.

"Yup," Percy said. "I'm not going to lie. It's tough. Sometimes it's hard and it sucks, but it's all yours and you pretty much have to love that, right? No one's going to try and take it from you again, Nico. I won't let them. I don't care if Mimas comes back from Tartarus or a thousand Dereks turn up on our doorstep, they're not going to fuck this up for you a second time."

The roaring in Nico's ears ratcheted up in pitch, becoming a shrill ringing. "My life," he repeated again, struggling to get the words out of his oddly-dry mouth. It felt like the floor had fallen out from underneath him, but instead of plunging downwards he was being whisked upwards away from the drop.

Percy smiled. "Didn't we do this already? Nothing's changed in the past five seconds, so yeah. It's still yours. Now the million dollar question is what are you doing to do with it?"

The question hung in the air for a long time between them. Nico's eyes searched back and forth across the middle distance, searching the future for the landmines that had dogged his past and finding the way remarkably clear.

"Whatever I want." Nico's voice was hushed, like he was in a temple and worried he was being irreverent. It was more a question than a statement, almost like he was asking the universe if it was an okay thing to say.

He had never been able to even think it before without the metaphorical ceiling falling in on him, without a thunderbolt from the blue sent to blast the very notion into atoms, and it was finally dawning on him that maybe now he could.

Laughter burst out before he could stop it, the dawning of the fact that what he was saying might actually be true now after so long being a blatant lie proving too much to contain. "Oh gods. Whatever the hell I want."


End file.
